Hunter's Moon
by unadulteratedsedation
Summary: Alex Argent is the younger sister of Allison and the only one of the two sisters to have been trained at a young age to become a hunter. She lives for it. That is until she meets Scott McCall and his pack who seem to change her entire view on the supernatural. Though, she simply tolerates the boy with the whiskey eyes and freckles who can't seem to stand upright when she's around.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Argent

She shouldn't have been surprised that a mere six hours after moving into their new house, and only two hours after crawling into her bed, she was being dragged out of it.

"Duty calls." Her father whispered. No doubt keeping his voice low as not to wake Allison who was sleeping peacefully in the next room.

It was nights like these that she envied her sister's ignorance as to the real reason why their family had over 650 guns in their garage. There was no use dwelling on that now, her father was right, duty called.

Her dad left her room, presumably to the garage where she would meet him in no less than ten minutes. Alex Argent plaited her long blonde hair, unusual for female hunters who more than likely cut it short for convenience. Alex took her responsibility to her family very seriously, but one thing she could not bare to part with was her long locks. She slipped on the black yoga pants and matching black top she kept in her top drawer, readily available for instances like this.

She crept quietly through her house, nodding at her mother who watched her silently from an arm chair in the pitch black of the living room.

She punched in the code to the garage door and stepped through taking immediate inventory of her team for the night.

Her father, of course, strapping a bow and arrow to his back. He looked solemn as he always did before a hunt. Sometimes she wondered idly to herself, that if he had a choice, would he be doing this at all? She knew the answer. No. He didn't love it like her mother did.

There were two other men gearing up. Jonathon, a loyal confidant of her fathers who had followed them to Beacon Hills from Washington. He was incredibly handsome with his dark skin and soulful eyes, eyes she found herself staring into more than once since his friendship with her family had begun. She'd seen him looking back on occasion with something akin to potential in his gaze, but the point was moot. They were hunters and connection was weakness.

The third man was someone she didn't recognize, but she knew her father had connections around the globe, so she didn't think twice about it. He was older and rugged, and judging by the way he was handling the sword in his grasp, experienced. Alex knew her father wouldn't introduce them until the third time they hunted together, an unspoken tradition in their line of work. What was the point when most barely survived the first? Hunters didn't waste time with pleasantries.

Alex laced up her combat boots and holstered six throwing knives to her body. One at her ankle, one on each thigh, and one on each hip. The sixth she kept in her hand to play with in the car. A nervous habit she had developed over the years, but if anyone asked, it simply helped her focus.

She covered up her torso holstered with her trademark leather jacket and took her spot in the passenger seat of her families black sports utility vehicle.

The ride was quiet, which was not unusual, except for the last five minutes where her father would go over the plan that everyone already knew to a 't'. It was life or death out there on a full moon, a fact that they had all learned the hard way.

"Stick to the trees." Her dad reiterated, "No kill shots."

Another part of The Code; trap the shapeshifter, deliberate with your team the best course of action, kill it. 'Deliberating with your team' was a formality. The decision was always to kill it.

The SUV stopped at the entrance to the preservation, her dad killed the lights and they all drew a collective breath before slipping out of the car and going their separate ways.

The cold September air crept through her clothes, chilling her. She drew her jacket tighter across her chest and tried not to think about how she could see her breath curling around in the air as it left her lungs.

The Preserve was dark, the only light coming from the full moon. It hit the towering trees and cast menacing shadows on the forest floor. Her head snapped up when she heard a great howl coming from, as far as she could tell, three kilometres away. Her feet moved at a sprint, pushing harder when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

She burst through the clearing, immediately noticing her whole team closing in on a figure with glowing eyes that leapt at an impossible height over fallen trees.

 _Running away,_ she thought, _this one didn't want a fight._

Her knife was poised in her hand, ready to throw, but she hesitated as the whizzing of an arrow was heard overhead. She heard the thump as it missed its target and lodged itself deep in a tree. Her father had missed, but she would not.

Her knife left her hand. Steadfast and true. It hurdled through the air, a more menacing sound than her fathers arrow. A more satisfying thump as it embedded itself into a tree, but not before tearing through the werewolf's wrist and pinning the beast to the tree.

Her father, only a few feet in front of her, looked back briefly with pride glinting clearly in his eyes. The team advanced on the shifter, watching it struggle to escape.

Suddenly, Jonathon was thrown from beside her, landing meters away with a groan. The older man was next, thrown harshly against a tree and Alex winced when she heard the snap of his spine. Dead.

In all the commotion, Alex had taken her eyes off the target and when she looked back to where she had pinned the mark, it was gone.

"Fuck." She swore under her breath.

"There were two." Her father concluded, coming to stand beside her, suddenly. She holstered the knife she had pulled on him with a smirk, "Never sneak up on an Argent." He said with a genuine smile.

Jonathon, who had limped over to them, gun at the ready, questioned breathlessly, "Two beta's?"

"Looks like it." Answered her father, a crease in his forehead.

"It killed Gatlin." Jonathon said, morose. They must have been friends. "I'll bury the body."

"Perks of the job." Alex quipped. "I'll help."

Jonathon nodded at her, grateful.

"No." Her father said, hand on her shoulder, "You need to get some sleep. You have your first day of school tomorrow."

Alex rolled her eyes, hoping Chris would see them even in the dark of night, and rolling a silver tipped throwing knife expertly between her fingers, "I'd rather dig a grave."

"Alex," Her father said, a warning tone creeping into his voice, "Car. Now."

"Yeah, yeah." She placated, "Let me grab my knife."

Alex walked to the tree where she'd trapped the werewolf and where her knife had fallen to the ground, dripping in blood. At the tip of the blade, the red blood bubbled, sizzling where it came in contact with the silver tip. She grabbed the blade and walked back to her father, a wry smile on her face, "At least it'll be in some pain for a day or two." She wiped the blade clean on her pants, "Small victories."

She followed her father back to the car, where he quickly peeled out of the Preserve.

"You did well tonight." Her father praised, eyes never leaving the road.

"When do I not?" She replied, haughtily. A smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want you to take the lead on the next hunt." He said, eyes serious.

"I'm assuming you haven't run that genius idea by mother." Alex said icily, staring out the window at the unfamiliar roads. Another new place she'd have to acclimate to.

"No, I haven't-"

"Because that is Allison's place." She finished for him, "Not mine."

"I know it's difficult." He sighed.

"Difficult is moving from city to city and having to figure out where homeroom is," She said narrowing her eyes at the road in front of her, "Not being able to have a proper relationship with my sister is not difficult, it's excruciating."

Chris Argent was intelligent enough not to push his daughter on this particular subject. It was a sore spot for the entire family. They pulled into their driveway and rolled to a stop in the garage. They took off their gear in silence and Chris looked at his daughter, wishing there was something he could say, but she was stripped of her weapons and pushing open the garage door before he could think of anything. He was surprised to see her poke her head back through the door.

"I can't take the lead because if I do, when you finally decide to tell Allison, I won't want to give it up." With those last words, she closed the garage door and crept through the hallways for the second time that night, nodding at her mother who had not moved an inch and dropping into bed.

She closed her eyes and hoped that the three hours of sleep she could get where as restful as eight.

"I'm going to drink the last cup of coffee if you don't get up!" Allison threatened, knocking loudly on her door for the third time that morning.

Alex groaned unintelligibly and then came to her senses when her tired brain registered the thought of no coffee. "Don't you dare." She growled, jumping out of bed and racing Allison down the stairs. By the time they reached the kitchen they were laughing wildly.

"Full pot?" Alex groaned looking at the freshly brewed coffee in the pot on the kitchen counter and the beautiful aroma, that nearly brought her to tears, filling the kitchen.

"Oops." Allison laughed, shrugging her shoulders with a sly smile. "Did you sleep in your jogging clothes?" Her sister asked with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah," Alex sing-songed, swiping the buttered toast out of her sisters hands with an evil smile, "So what?" She arched her brow and took a huge bite of toast, "Yum."

"You, are awful." Allison laughed and then added seriously, "and fast."

"You forgot beautiful and perfect."

"Right, yeah." Allison mocked, putting two new slices of bed into the toaster, "Except, the downright scary bags under your eyes." Allison turned to face her sister head on, "I came to your room last night - you weren't there."

Alex stiffened, "Couldn't sleep." She shrugged with a fake smile, "I went downstairs to watch stupid informercials, you know how those put me out." Another lie.

"Explains why you look like a crackhead." Allison laughed, until a rogue piece of toast hit her dead in the forehead.

"So, concealer?"

"Our bathroom, top drawer." Allison answered while wiping butter out of her eyebrow, "Meet me in the car in twenty, or I'm leaving without you."

"Just enough time to paint on my mask." She deadpanned, taking the steps two at a time. She took off the clothes she slept in, glad Allison hadn't seen the dried blood on the right thigh where she's wiped her knife clean.

Alex chose a pair of grey tights, light pink dress and her leather jacket to wear. She regarded herself in the mirror after caking concealer under her eyes and wondered if she looked like someone who killed supernatural creatures as a part-time job. She slipped on her high heeled black boots and laughed.

"Definitely not."

Allison was waiting in the car for her when she stepped out the front door. Neither their mom or dad had come down to say goodbye so Allison had decided to take the sports car. Alex nodded her approval at the rebellious choice.

"Pretty with just the right amount of 'I don't give a ...'" Allison said, looking her sister up and down, trailing off due to her aversion to swearing.

"We both look hot," Alex concluded, sliding in the car, "So let's go make this school our bitch."

The principal had asked the two sisters to wait outside while he got their paperwork in order. Allison took a phone call from their father while Alex had gotten up to survey the schools grounds; access point, exits, security cameras. She'd walked the perimeter and was rounding the corner back to the front of the school when she saw the principal had come back out to collect them.

"There she is." Exclaimed Allison.

"Sorry," Alex shrugged, "Just getting a feel for the place."

The girls followed the principal into the building, "How did you like it?" He asked Alex.

"You have a lovely school." Alex said, rolling her eyes at the back of his head and receiving a warning glare from Allison.

"It is, isn't it." The principal said, proud, unaware of Alex trying to hold in a mocking snort, "Well, here we are, your homeroom, I think you two will appreciate that we kept the both of you together."

"Oh, yes sir." Alex said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm at this point.

"You pleasant young ladies will fit right in." The principal opened the door and handed some paperwork to the teacher and walked out without a parting word or glance.

"Welcoming." Snarked Alex.

The class didn't bother to hide their stares while the teacher sifted through their paperwork. They were no strangers to this, so Alex stared right back, a hand on her hip, while Allison stared at the floor, trying to hide the colour in her cheeks.

"Class, welcome our new students, Alex and Allison Argent." He stuttered with the alliteration, as everyone did and continued, "Please make them feel welcome."

Allison led the way to the two empty seats near the back. As they approached she noticed a boy with brown eyes and dotted with freckles staring at her like she was naked. Alex stuck her tongue out at him for good measure.

"Stiles!" The boy beside him chided, "Jaw. Off. Floor."

The freckled boy obviously didn't hear him because he jumped out of his chair, catching his leg on the desk and falling directly at her feet.

"You can have my seat!" He said breathlessly from the floor and gesturing to his now unoccupied seat, while a few of his classmates laughed.

"This one is fine, thanks." Alex said, looking down at him and eventually taking a wide step over his sprawled out body.

"You're welcome." He squeaked out with a humorously high pitched intake of breath as he got a clear view up her skirt.

The boy picked himself up off the ground with extremely spastic arm movements, smiled and nodded at no one in particular, sat down and muttered, "Nailed it."

Alex turned to face her sister and roll her eyes but Allison's attention was on the boy sitting in front of her, the friend of the spastic one, he was smiling and holding out a pen to her. She was smiling and accepting. A perfectly innocent meet cute, except the knife sized wound on his wrist, angry, red and rimmed in silver.

"Motherfucker." She let out at a loud whisper. Too loud, as the whole class turned to face her, including the teacher. "Uh, freedom of speech?" She shrugged, feigning apologetic.

The teacher simply shook his head and returned his attention to his desk.

"I think I love you." The freckled boy declared, earning a small laugh from Allison.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Lacrosse

Alex hated school. Beacon Hills High just made it official.

She usually tried to lay low at new schools, fly under the radar. It's not like she had an abundance of free time to dedicate to extracurriculars, study groups, or making friends. She was too busy saving their ungrateful asses on a weekly basis from terrifying shit they had no idea even existed.

But she wasn't bitter at all.

She had bigger fish to fry, like why an innocent little sophomore had a wound on his wrist rimmed in silver. More importantly, why he thought hitting on _her_ sister was the best course of action considering _his_ extracurriculars; running around the woods at night and howling at the moon.

Alex was entertaining the notion that maybe her sleep deprived brain had conjured the image of a stab wound on her peer. She was, after all, running on two hours of sleep, with even less the night before.

Besides, she thought, what kind of desperate Alpha would turn a 16 year old boy into a werewolf?

Alex had been watching him all day: in homeroom, English, lunch hour, and Chemistry. He definitely didn't look like much and he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box either. Whenever the teacher called on him he sported this blank face and said nothing, like he was waiting the teacher out. He seemed like he was just a normal teenage boy trying to navigate the tumultuous waters of high school.

She had made the decision during lunch period, watching him and his friend with the freckles talk animatedly over their chicken fingers about how Scott had never seen Star Wars and what an absolute travesty that was. She was not going to tell her father about her suspicions, she drew the line at hunting someone who couldn't even buy beer.

So, she would watch him. His every move, especially the ones involving Allison. Reconnaissance was never her favourite part of the job, too boring and not enough action, but she did what she had to do.

The bell signalling the end of the day sounded and Alex nearly ran to Allison's locker, hoping to beat the rush of students dying to get home, or whatever other dull pubescent things people her age did.

She was surprised to see Allison talking to, more like cornered by, two students. One was a boy who looked like a roided up 34 year old and the other was a very attractive strawberry blonde haired girl. They seemed to be dating with the way the girl held her hand possessively on the meatheads forearm.

" . . . Friday is family night." Allison said, looking hopefully at Alex who had just approached the trio. "Right Alex?"

"Well, I fucking hope not." Alex said, leaning casually against the bank of lockers. Allison looked disappointed that her sister hadn't played along.

"My sister," Allison gestured to Alex with a casual flick of her hand, "Alex, charming as always."

"Well," Said the redhead, raising her eyebrows, "Didn't you two win the genetic lottery? If I didn't already own this school, I think I'd be jealous."

Allison laughed awkwardly and Alex stood there looking bored. She noticed that a couple of lockers down, the two boys from her homeroom, the werewolf and his boyfriend, were staring at them. When they noticed her looking they both turned their heads swiftly, shaking it off when they smacked together. Alex rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Allison.

"I'm Lydia, and this," She looked adoringly at the boy beside her, "is Jackson, my super-hot, incredibly talented boyfriend."

"Incredibly talented at what?" Alex asked without actually caring about the answer.

"Lacrosse, obviously." Jackson said, gesturing to his uniform.

"You two are coming to try-outs." Lydia demanded, "And the party on Friday. Ditch your family, this is the first party of the year."

"I rarely do what I'm told," Said Alex, pulling herself off the lockers, "So, I'd rethink your approach."

Lydia looked taken aback and Allison nudged her with her unusually bony elbow.

"You're sassy." Lydia declared after a moment of silence, "I like you." She grabbed Jackson's arm and turned to leave, "See you both at the field!"

"You know," Allison said after Lydia and Jackson had left, "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." She had a condescending look on her face.

"What do you think electric fly swatters are for?"

"Oh, come on," Allison pleaded, "We only brought one car so you have to come watch, or at least walk me to the field."

Alex knew what was coming, Allison's patented puppy dog face, the one she had perfected at four years old. Her eyebrows drooped and the corners of her mouth turned down just so, then the fake tears started to well up, "Fine."

Allison smiled, taking her sisters arm and turning towards the door. Alex looked back to where the werewolf had been standing only to find that he was gone.

 _So much for watching his every move_ , she thought with an inward groan.

Alex very rarely felt overwhelmed, with her line of work feelings like that got you killed, but walking on to the lacrosse field was overwhelming. It seemed like every student had come to watch the try-outs and they were cheering wildly even though all of the players were sitting on the bench waiting to start.

"They're literally cheering for nothing." Alex said, looking around, "You'd think we were at a Guns N Roses concert."

"Jackson did say that lacrosse was kind of a big deal around here." Allison said, looking just as overwhelmed as her.

"Understatement of the year." Alex commented, looking around the crowed bleachers, trying not to look dazed.

"Oh, look!" Said Allison pointing into the crowd, "There's Lydia."

Sure enough, there she was beckoning them over with a wide smile. Allison started to make her way up the bleachers, looking back when she realized Alex hadn't moved. She looked her in the eye with a quizzical brow.

"You go," Alex said nonchalantly, "I'll wait for you."

"You sure?"

Alex looked at Lydia pushing some girl out of her seat to make room for them, unapologetically.

"Definitely."

Alex made herself comfortable by leaning against the metal of the bleachers, she watched Allison and Lydia greet each other warmly and returned her attention to the field. Time for some recon.

There were three things Alex was sure of halfway through try-outs: the freckled boy was talented at warming the bench, Scott McCall was a werewolf and Coach was a fucking asshole.

McCall was doing things on the field that were impossible for an Olympic athlete, let alone a teenage boy. He flew through the air with the agility of a wolf and seemed just as surprised as everyone else at what he could do.

The freckled boy was shouting at anyone who would listen that Scott was his best friend, jumping and cheering wildly, looking around at the screaming crowd, and catching Alex's eye. He stopped cheering to smile lopsidedly at her and in response she ducked around the bleachers, out of sight.

Alex drew in a long breath. Teenage wolf. On the lacrosse team. Looking longingly at her sister. Christ. She reached in her bag and pulled out a package of cigarettes that she rarely touched, as she only indulged this habit when the anxiety of her life steamrolled her. She lit the tip and took a drag, breathing it out and putting a hand to her temple.

"Uh, hey." Came a voice from beside her, "Rough day?" It was the freckled boy from her homeroom, teen wolfs best friend.

"Rough life." She replied, closing her eyes.

"Smoking kills, you know." He said, seeming to instantly regret his words.

"Lots of things kill." She said dryly, looking at him sideways. He was dry of sweat from sitting on the bench all afternoon, his red lacrosse jersey perfectly pressed, brown eyes peering at her expectantly.

"You're cryptic." He stated with a wry smile, "I'm Stiles."

"What the fuck kind of adjective is that?" She questioned, snuffing her smoke out on the heel of her boot.

"My name." He said, scratching the back of his neck, "I'm kind of waiting for yours."

"Wow," She said turning to face him fully, he seemed surprised to have gained her full attention, "Nice parents." She said sarcastically. "I'm Alex."

"Argent, yeah." He nodded, "We have homeroom together, I sort of fell at your feet."

"Oh, I thought you were an area rug." She said with a shrug of her shoulders and a joking smirk.

"I get that a lot." He smiled, looking up into the bleachers, struggling for something to say to continue their conversation. "Your sister seems to be doing well, you know, fitting in."

Alex looked up to where his gaze had landed on Allison and Lydia laughing and smiling in the crowd. Lydia was leaning in close, whispering something in Allison's ear that made her smile that dazzling carefree way Alex was foreign to.

"She always does."

"You don't?" Asked Stiles, genuine curiosity in his eyes, "I, uh, not that I was watching you or anything, but I saw Lydia and Jackson talking to you too."

"Not that you were watching," She snorted and continued, still watching Lydia, "Not the kind of company I like to keep."

The jerk wad Coach blew his obnoxious whistle that saw far too much action, signalling the end of try-outs and Alex turned to walk away, anxious to get the hell out of there, go home and finally get some sleep.

"What kind of company do you like to keep?" Stiles asked from behind her. When she turned back around to face him, he tried to lean casually against the metal bleachers. However, he miscalculated and fell sideways with his arm extended as though to lean. He hit the wet grass with a dull thud but managed to right himself in record time, with a slightly panicked expression, "I'm good."

Alex couldn't help the smile that tugged on her mouth in spite of herself. She reached out to brush a piece of grass from his cheek and leaned in close, "I'm more of a lone wolf." She watched his expression change from surprised and slightly turned on due to her proximity, to fear and uncertainty. She didn't hesitate when she walked away this time, straight to Allison.

"Did you watch?" Allison asked, "Wasn't that exhilarating?" Allison's cheeks were flushed and her smile seemed permanent.

"Oh yeah," Alex said, words dripping in sarcasm, "Riveting. Watching teenage boys with anger issues hit each other with sticks. Exhilarating."

Allison laughed as they walked down the front steps to their car, Alex immediately noticed their family's SUV parked right out front, her father sitting in the driver's side, a deep crease in his forehead.

Allison noticed him shortly after, asking, "Why is dad here?" She walked briskly to his car, smiling, "Hey dad! We were watching lacrosse try-outs, it was-"

"That's great, Sweetheart," He smiled, cutting her off. Alex knew where this was headed; SUV, black clothes, sombre expression. "But do you mind driving home alone, I need to borrow Alex for something."

"Oh, yeah, sure. I don't mind." She said, a smile that was fake appearing on her face. She always did her best to try and hide it when this kind of thing happened, but Alex always knew just how hard her sister took it.

Allison smiled sadly at her sister and turned around. Alex got into the car and started rooting around in the duffle bag her father always packed and put right between their seats, she felt around for her knives and looked at her father with a cocked eyebrow.

"You know she hates it when you do that."

"We have bigger things to worry about." He said simply, peeling out of the high school.

Guess she wasn't sleeping tonight.

Allison watched her father and sister drive away, letting the fake smile fall off her face and she stomped petulantly to her car. It was always those two, and she was always left behind. Left to fend for herself. She hated the way their heads bent together in the car, talking seriously and without pretence. She was never able to do that with him. She was always stuck with their mother, who quite frankly, scared the shit out of her.

In her haste to get home and maybe cry a little, she didn't realize that she was headed right into another student.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." She said, not looking up, dropping to her knees to pick up the contents of her fallen purse.

"It's okay." The student said, bending down to help her collect her things, she looked up to see that it was the cute boy from her homeroom, the one who had played wonderfully on the field. His awkward friend was beside him, the one whose name Lydia didn't know.

"I wasn't looking . . . " She trailed off, standing up and smiling at him.

He looked a little preoccupied with his thoughts when he asked, "Who was that?" Gesturing to the empty spot where her father had been idling.

"Oh, that's my dad." She said simply, looking at him with curiosity, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, uh," He said, startled back into reality, "Nothing. I'm Scott."

"Allison." She extended her hand.

"Stiles!" Said the boy, then looking between the two, still clasping hands, "Not that either of you care."

"So," Scott continued, "Is it really family night on Friday?"

"No," She smiled, a cheeky look in her eye, "That was a lie."

"So maybe I'll see you at that party?"

"Maybe." She said, and turned to walk to her car, smiling all the way home.

"Dude," Said Stiles, "You just got a kind of date with a girl who is totally out of your league, why are you not more excited?"

"Because," Scott said, looking slightly green, "I think her father tried to kill me."

"No fucking way." Said Stiles, whipping his hands around wildly, eyes widening at Scott. "Her dad stabbed you?"

"No." Scott gulped, "That was her sister."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Party Of The Year

"Dude, I can't believe your luck." Stiles commented, stepping awkwardly over a fallen log as they wandered through the woods for the second time that week. "It sucks."

"Dude," Growled Scott, "Shut up."

"You can't seriously be thinking of going to that party with her?"

"Stiles, just stop talking and help me look."

"Are you absolutely sure it was her sister?" Stiles asked, ignoring his friends plea for silence.

Scott whirled around and fixed Stiles with a withering glare, "Who threw a dagger at me?" He asked rhetorically, "Yeah, Stiles, I'm pretty friggin' sure."

"For some reason, that just makes her so much hotter." Stiles said, shaking his head incredulously, "Which hardly seems possible, due to the fact that she is a total smoke show." Stiles continued to ramble while putting in zero effort to help Scott find his inhaler.

"Dude," Scott interrupted, then again when he was ignored, louder the second time, "DUDE!"

Stiles looked up to find Scott staring at a looming figure in the distance.

"This is private property." The man said, his glare almost tangible.

"Sorry," Said Scott, taking a tentative step backwards with his hands raised slightly in the air in a show of innocence, "We were just looking for something I lost."

The man said nothing in response, but he lifted his right hand and tossed something to Scott with incredible speed and strength. Scott looked down in his outstretched hand, he'd expertly caught what he was surprised to see was his inhaler. When he looked up to thank the man, he was gone. Scott looked at Stiles with raised eyebrows, as if to confirm that had actually happened.

"That was Derek Hale." Stiles said, looking dazed.

"Who?" Scott asked, fingering the inhaler.

"How do you not-" Stiles cut himself off with a sigh and exaggerated eye roll, "Derek Hale." He said again, "His entire family burned to death in a fire a couple of years ago."

"I am officially creeped out." Scott decided, pocketing his inhaler and turning around abruptly, "Let's get the hell out of here, we have a party to get to."

Stiles made an obviously displeased face behind Scott's back. He had tried to convince Scott that going to a high school party on a full moon was a profoundly bad idea, but Scott only seemed to have one thing on his mind, Allison.

The party was in full swing when Allison arrived. The loud music pulsed from the large house she was parked in front of. She was alone. Alex had texted her to say she was going to be late and Allison figured she was still out galavanting around with their dad.

She faked a confident smile and walked into the house, wondering idly if Scott was there yet.

She scanned the crowd and almost immediately found Stiles, his flailing arms and spectacularly bad rhythm was hard to miss. Allison smiled, figuring that she rarely saw one without the other, so Scott must be around somewhere.

Stiles watched from his spot by the bar as Allison and Scott danced, or fornicated, on the dance floor. It could have been classified as either, really. He realized he probably looked a little weird, watching his best friend and his new lady friend this closely, but if Scott refused to listen to reason, Stiles was going to watch him like a hawk. Someone needed to think clearly, and it was easier for Stiles because the girl he had been pretending not to look for was no where to be found.

Stiles pulled himself up from his casual lean against the bar when he saw Scott clutch at his head, as though he was in immense pain and stumble away from a very confused looking Allison.

Not good.

"Scott!" He called, stumbling when Scott pushed past him, "Scott, you okay?"

Stiles was met with the slam of the front door. "Shit." He exclaimed, downing his drink in one go and running after him, out of the house, down the driveway, and around the corner. He swore again when he saw Scott duck into the woods, nothing good ever happened in the woods as far as Stiles was concerned, at least, not lately.

When Stiles caught up with Scott, he was hunched over a large tree root, grabbing at his jaw and making some seriously inhuman sounds. "It's Derek!" Scott growled, definitely sounding less than human, "He's a werewolf. He's the one who bit me!"

Stiles tried to put a comforting arm on his friends shoulder but Scott whipped his head around and growled, canines bared and eyes a startling shade of yellow. "Holy fuck." Stiles let out, stepping backwards, and then composing himself, "Scott, breathe. Come on, just breathe."

The pair were in the cover of the trees now, but they both stiffened when they heard the squeal of tires and saw the blinding glare of someone's highbeams. They heard the slamming of two car doors and Stiles tried not to panic. "Scott, not to alarm you, but someone's coming." They both ducked lower behind the large tree, "Don't wolf out on me now, you need to relax."

In response, Scott clutched harder at his head and moaned in pain. Stiles looked up at the night sky, the full moon was nearly at it's peak.

From their hiding place they could see two figures scoping the area, dressed in black leather. One had long blonde hair, pulled back into a tight braid and the other was a taller man. Stiles was coming to find that he could recognize Alex in an instant, but he shook the unhelpful thought from his head.

"Shit." Stiles swore hands tapping uselessly against the bark of the tree.

"Alex." Said Scott, having gained some control back and then in a slightly whiny whisper, "I'm dead."

"He came this way." Alex's voice rang out clearly in the quiet woods. She stepped lightly followed by her father, they both looked uncannily like predators.

"Are you sure?" Questioned her father, gun aimed ahead of him and into the dark.

"No, dad." Alex said, her sarcasm evident even in the dark of the forest, "I imagined the four-legged dude with glowing eyes running out of a house party."

Her father shushed her, "I hear something over there."

"Go." She urged.

Scott and Stiles watched Mr. Argent take off between two trees and then disappear into the woods. Alex remained in the clearing, spinning some weird knife-like things in her hands. Stiles watched the light from the full moon gleam off of the blades as he manipulated it with her knuckles.

Then a completely different kind of glow caught his attention, just beyond Alex's shoulder. Two glowing blue orbs. Eyes.

Stiles began to panic and made a move to rise from his hiding spot to shout out a warning to Alex, but before he could, he heard the unmistakable sound of her laughter.

"Derek Hale." She said, her knives stopping deadly still in her hands and poised in an offensive position. "I've heard so much about you."

Derek responded with a terrifying howl that seemed to shake the ground beneath their feet. He felt Scott shudder beside him, however Stiles couldn't take his eyes off of the scene playing out in front of him. Derek was crouched low his eyes fixed on Alex and her smile hadn't faltered.

"Come and get me, big boy." She taunted, rising on the balls of her feet. Derek launched himself at the small girl, his teeth elongated and claws aimed for her throat. She spun lightening fast, missing him by mere inches. He skidded to a halt behind her.

"You missed." She sing-songed, throwing two daggers on beat with each word, both sinking deep into his shoulder blades. Derek howled in pain, falling onto his knees.

Alex appeared behind him and began slashing at his back with two new knives. The sound was gruesome and Stiles could see the blood glint in the moonlight as it jumped off of Alex's blades. She was about to finish him off when Scott, seemingly unable to control himself any longer, howled low from beside Stiles and took off on all fours in the opposite direction of the hunters.

"Holy shit." Stiles whispered at his now empty side, "I'm dead."

He turned his attention back to the fight, or ass-kicking, that was happening in front of him, hoping his hiding spot hadn't been compromised. However, due to Scott's guttural growl, Alex had been distracted and Derek had gained the upper hand.

Derek rose from the forest floor and with unbelievable speed wrapped his arms around Alex, throwing her with incredible force into a large tree. Before Stiles could blink in surprise, Derek took off in the same direction as Scott.

Stiles was standing now, almost fully visible from the spot he'd been crouching in when he heard her groan loudly from a crumpled heap on the ground, "Motherfucker."

Stiles took three steps forward and then hit the ground when he saw her father burst through into the clearing, looking frantic.

"Alex!" He shouted, out of breath, throwing himself beside his daughter and scanning the area for any threats. "Are you alright?"

He helped her to her feet and she winced. Stiles nearly threw up all over the front of his shirt when he saw the tree branch she'd been impaled by. It was sticking out of her side, just below her ribs.

"No." She rasped, looking pale, "This was my favourite jacket."

Alex spent the night sitting in her garage, while her father stitched up her side. All the while hoping Allison was already asleep and would not be disturbed by her constant swearing and moans of pain. When her father had stopped the bleeding and cut the last stitch, he patted her shoulder and they wordlessly walked into the house.

Sleep evaded her due to the pain and inability to lie down properly, so she read until the light of dawn crept into her room through her open curtains.

 _What's another night without sleep_? She thought, bitterly. _I'll sleep when I'm dead_.

Allison had refused to speak to her all morning. They sat silently in the kitchen drinking coffee and eating cereal, though Alex picked at hers meagrely, unable to stomach the thought of eating. Alex had gone to the bathroom to change the dressing on her wound before they left for school, but when she emerged from their shared ensuite, a sheen of sweat on her brow and looking very green, Allison was already gone.

"Allison, please." Alex begged as she took a seat next to her sister in homeroom.

"You ditched me." Allison stated, without looking at her, "Again. Always."

Alex rolled her eyes when she noticed Scott and Stiles' heads turned slightly towards them, listening to their conversation.

"I'm sure you had more fun, made more friends without me." Alex tried to reason, throwing her hands in the air.

"No," Allison said, looking icily at the back of Scott's head, "I didn't."

"I'm sorry-"

"Class is starting."

And she was right, the teacher had begun talking about the the assignment they were to complete by the end of the period, but Alex wasn't listening.

"Fucking stubborn little shit-" She started to mutter under breath, interrupted by Stiles' face popping up directly in her line of vision, "Oh my," She jumped, and finished with a glare, "God. Can I help you?"

"The teacher said to pick a partner." He explained, shrugging and pulling his chair loudly across the linoleum floor so he could sit next to her.

"Tell me," She said, annoyed, "Why doesn't McCall get the pleasure of dealing with you for the next hour?"

"He has some things to work out with Allison." He said, flipping open his textbook.

"Join the club." She grumbled, resting her head in her hands, looking over his shoulder at the text.

"Couldn't help but overhear that." Stiles said, feigning nonchalance and nodding his head at Allison and Scott.

"By 'couldn't help but overhear', you mean, 'actively eavesdropping.'" She corrected with a cocked eyebrow.

"What? Well, you know, uh," He spluttered, tapping the end of his highlighter nervously on the desk.

"Stiles?" She interrupted, facing him.

"Yeah?"

"English." She demanded.

"Right," He nodded, mostly to himself, "So, you bailed on her?" He said, leaning in closer, "You didn't go to the party at all?"

"No." She confirmed, flipping the page of the textbook casually.

"Why?" She could feel his eyes on her and refused to look at him.

"None of your business." She flashed him a sweet smile. He nudged his chair closer to hers, his elbow accidentally knocking into her freshly stitched up side. Alex immediately turned a frightening shade of white and a clammy sweat broke out on her skin. Pain blossomed from her wound and it took every ounce of willpower she had, not to cry out.

"Sorry." He said, tucking his elbow closer to his side, but doing a double take after seeing her face, "Wow, are you okay?" He trailed off and his eyes widened with realization.

Alex found the strength to rise from her seat and rush out of the classroom despite the teachers protests. Allison and Scott stared after her retreating form and then after Stiles' as he followed her out. Alex managed to get to her locker, leaning heavily against it for support and fumbled futilely with the lock for a few moments before Stiles pried it from her hand.

"Let me help." He suggested.

She dictated her combination to him and demanded, "Silver flask," when she heard him swing the locker door open.

Stiles dug through the contents, finding the flask thrown haphazardly at the bottom, he handed it to her and watched her twist it open and throw back a large swig. "What is it?" He asked, steading her with his arms.

"Whiskey." She breathed out, taking another healthy gulp.

 _Oh yeah_ , He thought, taking a whiff, _totally forty proof._

"A little early, don't you think?" He questioned, peering at her in concern.

"You've driven me to alcoholism, Stilinski." She said, placing her hand on her side, pulling it back and peering at her fingertips which were covered in blood. It was sticky and red and made her stomach clench unpleasantly. "It helps with the pain." She said through her teeth.

"What happened?" He asked carefully, already knowing the answer.

"A dog bit me." He saw a small smile play at the corner of her mouth, "Rabid thing, probably. I must have ripped a stitch."

"Should you be at school?" His eyes stuck on her red finger tips, his hands splaying across her back to hold her upright.

"It looks worse than it is." She lied, leaning against him, her head lolling against his shoulder. He tried not to smell her hair in what seemed to be a dire situation, but allowed himself a small sniff. Lavender and whiskey.

"You should definitely be at a hospital." He said, watching her eyes flutter open and closed, in quick succession.

"No hospital." She muttered, swaying on her unsteady feet. Her eyes widened with the realization that she was definitely about to pass out, "Oh, fuck," and then her eyes rolled into the back of her head.


	4. Chapter 4

**I am overjoyed with the reaction this story has gotten and there is only three reviews. Am I easy to please or what?**

 **Ronnie.H commented saying: Loved it, I love me a badass character and Alex is one major badass. I noticed that the sequence of events was changed, with the boys meeting Derek and the hunters, and was wondering why that was?**

 **Cant wait to see how Stiles and Alex' s relationship develops and was wondering who Alex's face claim is.**

 **Cant wait till the next chapter.**

 **First of all, thank you for taking the time to tell me that what I'm writing is worth reading! Second of all, because Alex is such a badass and has such a large presence, I figured that just her being added to the story of Teen Wolf would mix things up and naturally change the sequence of events. I hope that answers your question.**

 **As for Alex's face claim, I hadn't really given it much thought. I suppose when I'm writing I picture her as Kristen Bell circa Veronica Mars. Kind of a personality claim, as well.** **Lmfao.**

 **Now on to Chapter Four!**

Chapter Four: Got Me in Stitches

"It's where she was impaled by a tree branch and then her insane father decided _not_ to take her to a hospital!" Stiles ranted, throwing his hands in the air, Scott and Deaton watching him curiously.

Alex had collapsed in the hallway, going limp in his arms, much to his dismay. Scott had appeared next to them almost instantaneously, having smelt the blood from their homeroom. They had carried her conspicuously to Stiles' Jeep, praying to whatever deity that obviously did not exist, that no one would see them carrying an unconscious girl and dropping her unceremoniously into the backseat of a piece of shit car.

They had driven directly to the animal clinic where Deaton had immediately closed up shop and hauled a very pale looking Alex onto his examination table and began asking questions about how this had happened. Stiles was doing his best to explain and remain calm.

"Well," Deaton began, examining the wound, "Whoever stitched her up did a very clinical job. Experience with the medicinal practice. It looks like ripping this stitch here," He gestured to a piece of black thread sticking out of angry red skin and generally looking like it didn't belong there, "in combination with no anesthetic and no pain medication was too much for her pain threshold."

"Wait a second," Stiles blinked incredulously at the veterinarian, "No anesthetic?"

"Theres no injection site." Deaton explained.

"Who needs pain meds when you can self medicate." Stiles said sarcastically, falling into a nearby chair and waving around Alex's silver flask that she had dropped before he caught her. "When is she going to wake up? If we don't get her back to the school before Allison tells her dad that she's gone, we're all dead."

"Dead? That's a little dramatic, Mr. Stilinski." Deaton said, fixing the stitch with an expert tug of his sutures.

"Tell that to Derek Hale, who she cut into _literal_ ribbons last night with sushi knives." Stiles exclaimed, working himself into the start of one hell of a frenzy.

"Japanese Ring Daggers." Came a groggy voice from the examining table, and then, "Where the hell am I?"

"I'm Doctor Deaton, and this is my animal clinic." The older man explained, holding out a hand in what she interpreted as a surrender, or at least a show that he wasn't a threat.

Alex looked directly at Stiles, "You took me to a vet?" She laughed with very little humour, "There's a really good joke in there somewhere."

Stiles smiled despite their current situation, shaking his head at her invulnerability.

"So, Teen Wolf," Alex lifted herself up off of the table, swinging her legs over the side and hopping down on her feet, "How's that wrist of yours?"

"You really shouldn't be on your feet." Deaton said, being ultimately ignored by everyone in the room.

Scott eyed the girl smirking in front of him and thought that he might have preferred her when she was unconscious and looking less indestructible.

"You tried to kill me!" He shouted, eyes wild. Stiles stiffened from his spot in the uncomfortable black plastic chair, watching the exchange.

"I tried to maim you." Alex responded calmly, rolling her eyes, "There's a difference."

"She's got a point, Scott." Stiles chimed in, hoping his friend wouldn't lose his composure.

"Not helping." Scott growled, glaring at Stiles menacingly before returning his attention to Alex, "You were hunting us last night!" He accused.

"Yes, we hunt on the full moon," She said in a tone that suggested he was stupid, "When you are at your most volatile."

"I haven't done anything." Scott yelled, frustrated.

"Dude, could you chill out?" Alex asked, leaning on the table for support, "Why do you think you aren't dead yet? I haven't told my dad anything."

"Why not?" Asked Stiles, not demanding, simply curious.

"Because I've been tailing you." She shrugged, "Though, I guess you've been tailing me too, if you know what happened between Derek and I last night."

"We were there." Stiles said, coming clean. "Where did you learn to fight like that? You were amazing - and terrifying."

"Listen," Alex started, ignoring Stiles as he started at her in wonder, "I'm a hunter, you are a werewolf. Just because I've decided not to kill you yet, doesn't mean we're friends or that I owe you any answers." She finished her speech and made her way to the door, head held high despite the discomfort from her side.

"Yet?" Scott and Stiles asked, simultaneously.

"I'm going to keep watching you." She said, "You won't be able to squat in the woods without me knowing about it. So, if you hurt anyone, I'll take you out. It really is as simple as that." She threw a causal look over her shoulder aimed at Deaton, "Thanks, Doc."

She was gone in an instant, the chiming of the front door signalling her exit.

"None of this is simple." Scott said, head in his hands.

"Well," Said Stiles, clapping his best friends shoulder, "I think that went well."

Alex walked out the front door of the animal clinic only to realize that Dumb and Dumber had brought her here, against her will might she add, and she had no car and no idea where she was.

"Going somewhere?" Came the annoyingly familiar voice of Stiles. Alex actually groaned into the air when she turned to see him swinging his car keys around with a shit-eating grin plastered to his smug face.

"You know," She said, "I'm getting really tired of your face popping up everywhere I go."

It didn't stop her from getting in the car.

"You know," He mocked, "Most people would say thank you." He looked at her expectantly, "No? Yeah, okay."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Yeah," He scoffed, "because you were unconscious." He glanced at her sideways, taking a mental note that she looked really good sitting in his passenger seat.

"You make a valid point." She conceded as they pulled out of the parking lot, "So, thanks."

"You're very welcome." He sounded too pleased with himself and resisted the urge to punch his throat.

They rode back to the school in a comfortable silence and it wasn't until Stiles pulled up beside her parked car that he spoke.

"Scott is a good guy. You can watch him all you want, but you won't see anything." He took a breath, and she turned to look at him as he waged an internal war as to continue speaking or leave it at that, "Can we trust you?" He asked finally.

Alex pulled out the silver blade she kept on her person at all times, the one she forged as her rite of passage at age twelve, stamped with the Argent crest. She maneuvered it between her knuckles and looked him in the eyes, "Can I trust you?"

Stiles eyed the impressive blade and gulped audibly, then he nodded.

"So, we have a truce." She declared, moving to open the door of the Jeep.

"Then, I think I should tell you something." He said, tapping his hand nervously on the steering wheel, "We think Derek is the one who bit Scott."

"Derek Hale?" She questioned, taking her hand off of the door handle, "That's impossible."

"Why?" Stiles asked.

"Exactly how new are you two to this?" She asked, wondering how they didn't know the basic facts.

"Newborns!" Stiles exclaimed, his fingers no longer drumming on the wheel but gripping it tightly, "Scott's first full moon was the night you tried to kill him!"

"Maim." She corrected again, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Whatever." He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "He was bitten only two nights before that," He paused, then added dramatically, "by Derek!"

"Stilinski, maybe you should be taking some notes here." She suggested, ultimately joking and surprised when he began to root through his bag.

"I can't find a pen!" He said frantically, "What kind of high school student . . ." He trailed off when Alex reached out to grab his hand and pull it away from his backpack, she turned it over in her hand so his palm was facing up.

"Alpha, Beta, Omega." She said slowly, tracing three spirals connected in the middle on his open palm. He remained quiet, staring at her intently while he listened. "Omega, the lone wolf. It has no pack and therefore, next to no power. For hunters, they are the easiest to kill."

"Scott." Stiles concluded, eyes flickering from where their hands were connected to her light blue eyes.

"No," Alex continued, "All Omegas start out as Betas. They make the conscious choice to divert from their Alpha, or they are forcibly removed from the pack. Betas are werewolves in packs, bitten by an Alpha. Obviously, Alphas are pack leaders and the only wolf able to create a Beta."

"Okay," Said Stiles, absorbing every possible thing, "but how do you know that isn't Derek."

"Derek is not an Alpha." She tried again, realizing that she was going to have to dumb it down quite a bit, "It's all in the eyes. An Alpha has red. When I was fighting Derek, his were still blue."

"Alpha has red eyes and a Beta has blue, but Scott-"

"Alpha has red, Beta has yellow." She corrected, realizing how convoluted this whole thing sounded, no wonder the poor guy was confused, "Blue is for a whole other reason we'll have to touch on for our next lesson."

"Derek didn't bite Scott." Stiles said, turning away from her to stare out the front window of his Jeep. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"Wait for it . . ." She trailed off, watching him closely.

"There's another werewolf in Beacon Hills." He stated, eyes wide. "An Alpha."

"Bingo." She smiled, impressed that he had caught on so fast.

"Why are you and your family going after Derek if he's not the Alpha?" Stiles asked, returning his attention to her. She was no longer focused on him, but the front doors of the school where any minute now, a flood of students would come pouring into the parking lot.

"Did you hear about the body they found in the woods?" She asked.

"You could say that." He responded, pleased that for the first time since they had met, she was telling him something that he already knew.

"It was cut in half," She continued, "The body, the half the police found, was affected by both silver and wolfsbane."

"Affected?"

"It melted." She clarified, watching as he turned a not completely unflattering shade of green.

"Oh," He put a hand to his mouth, "God. Gross. How do you even know that?"

"We have contacts in the police department." She said, nonchalant and continued, "We aren't completely sure, but we think Derek had something to do with it." She said, "We are trying to gather some proof so the kill is justified."

The students had started to descend upon the parking lot and Alex moved to exit Stiles' car. The last thing she needed was Allison to see her with Stiles, who was always a mere hop, skip, and a jump away from Scott. The less questions Allison asked, the better.

"Take it easy with those stitches." Stiles said in parting and Alex nearly stopped in her tracks. No one had ever thought twice about her injuries, which were many. According to her parents, they were apart of the job, and Allison was never allowed to know the extent of her injuries unless they were visible. Like that one time with the fork in her neck.

Stiles seemed to genuinely care for her well-being and she felt a warmth grow in her chest for the strange boy. Still, she said nothing in response and closed the door without a glance backwards.

"Did you ditch?" Allison said, coming out of the woodwork, not having seen her come out of the Jeep. "You ran out of homeroom this morning and then I didn't see you all day." Allison leaned against the blue Toyota, another of their families cars, and added, "Or Scott." Alex resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "What was that, by the way, running out of class?"

"I felt a migraine coming on." Alex lied, moving around Allison's form to open the driver's seat door.

"And you ditched all day because . . ?"

Alex had aways been quick thinking. After what seemed like a lifetime of lying to everyone in her life, she'd developed a natural and balanced relationship with deceit, so natural that sometimes she lied even when she didn't have to. She had to now, though, and it had to be good. "You know Jonathon followed dad from Washington?"

Allison nodded, a knowing smile on her perfectly angular face.

"We wanted some," Alex paused for dramatic effect, wholly to sell the story she was about to spin, "alone time." She finished with a wink.

That was just another lie on a long list she told her sister on a daily basis. Allison had started getting suspicious about the time Alex had been spending with Jonathon. Of course, the truth was that they were training mostly and hunting sometimes. However, of course Allison jumped to the more juvenile conclusion - that they were sleeping together. Alex had gone to her father about Allison's growing suspicions, concerned that they were getting out of hand and more frequent. Her father's response was to encourage Allison's belief that she and Jonathon were an item and confirm Allison's accusation.

"I can't believe dad hasn't caught you two yet." She smiled, pulling herself off of the car. "He'd totally kill you."

"So," Alex started, hoping to steer the conversation in a less humiliating direction, "I take it you're speaking to me again?"

"Yeah," Her sister rolled her eyes, beginning to walk to her car which she'd petulantly parked across the lot, "But don't think you're getting off scot-free."

Alex watched her sister saunter to her car and let out a breath she'd been holding since what felt like this morning. Alex lowered herself into her car, noticing that in her passenger seat was her backpack. The one she'd left in homeroom. She figured that Stiles and Scott must have brought it for her, and bit back a sigh of appreciation. She reached into the front pocket and grabbed her phone, which as per usual, didn't have much to alert her about, except one message from the only person she really talked to:

 _Christ Argent 9:53 a.m. - You're going solo tonight._

The second message her father had sent continued to explain what the solo mission was going to entail, recon at the dilapidated Hale House.

 _Alex Argent 3:45 p.m. - Fun._

Then she deleted the text message thread and put the keys in the ignition. Looking to her left she realized that Stiles was still parked beside her, watching her, though when she turned her head and caught him, he whipped his head so hastily that she both saw and heard it smack against the Jeep's window. He looked back at her and waved with a goofy smile on his face.

"What a fucking weirdo."

Allison had passed out on the couch, which Alex had been waiting for since midnight. She couldn't leave for the Hale House with her sister asking questions about where she was going, and she couldn't come up with a plausible lie for why she was leaving the house this late at night.

When she stepped into the garage it was empty. She looked around but her father was no where to be found, not that she should have been expecting him. Recon missions were like baby milestones, she could do this in her sleep.

She geared up with serrated edge throwing knives and hit the road. The faster she got there, the faster she could find something that incriminated Derek in her families eyes and the faster she could go home and go the fuck to sleep.

The walk through the Preserve was cold, the weather was only getting colder since they'd moved here. When she finally got to the house the chill of the October air left her as the importance of the mission took over her frontal cortex.

She started inside the house, the old floor boards creaking under the weight of her footsteps. The scratch marks along the walls and floors made her shiver, knowing exactly what caused them. She didn't need to trace the lines with her fingers to know that they were claw marks. The story of the Hale House fire was legendary. No one knew how it happened, but everyone knew the aftermath; Derek, orphaned. Or so everyone thought. Werewolves had a funny habit of not staying dead.

She heard a yell from outside, a yell that was too shocked and inexperienced to be anything other than a stupid kid or a stupid police officer. A werewolf would have kept quiet and a hunter would have already killed her. Alex crept along the wrap around porch, knife dangling between her fingers lackadaisically.

The first thing she saw was a pile of unearthed dirt, then as she listened closer she heard the sound of a small whimper.

"What the fuck, what the fuck." She was getting pretty good a recognizing Stiles' voice.

"Shut up, Stiles." That was Scott, "Someone is going to -"

"Hear you?" Alex finished, jumping over the large pile of dirt and landing in front of the frightened young men. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to convey just how unimpressive they both were.

"I think," Stiles breathed out after he stopped screaming, "I just pissed myself." Scott nodded from his spot on the ground, the spot he'd fallen over in after tripping over his own feet.

"Lovely." She commented, coming over to inspect what the two had been so worked up over, "Well, well, well. What have Thing One and Thing Two," She paused looking at them both and smiled, "I'm not telling you who is who, by the way," and returned her attention to the half a corpse laying buried beneath their feet, "Found here?"

"Have a look." Stiles said, waving a hand over the girl with eyes open, yet unseeing. "I'm totally Thing One."

"Oh shit." She laughed, "I can't believe you found it."

"You're laughing right now?" Scott yelled, absolutely horrified.

"Man," Stiles said, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans, "I told you she was terrifying."

"This" Alex gestured to the grave, "Was my goal tonight." She smiled, "Find proof that Derek killed, and ripped in half, this poor unsuspecting girl. But you two assholes did it for me and now I get to go home and have a good nights sleep." Alex was overjoyed.

"You're thinking about sleep right now?" Scott asked, outraged.

"Listen buddy," Alex rounded on him with a fierceness in her eyes that would have scared any grown man, "I haven't had more than three hours a night, in like, two months. So yeah, I'm thinking about fucking sleep."

"What are you going to do with the body?" Scott asked, backing down.

"Me? Nothing. I'm going to leave it here for the police to find."

"Don't you need proof." Scott pressed, "For your dad?"

"My word is my proof." She said simply, but then reaching into her back pocket to retrieve her phone. "But, you do have a valid point." She pointed it at the grave and took a couple of pictures, "Work it girl." She commented dryly, forgetting momentarily that she was not alone.

Morbidity was a learned trait.

"Alright," Said Stiles, "Not that this isn't fun and all but-" He cut himself off with a dry heave and tried to look anywhere but at the body. By the time he'd composed himself enough to see straight he got a clear view of Alex's retreating form.

"Hey! Alex!" He called, stumbling over to her, wishing she would slow down, "Should you be out here on your own?"

"I'm going home now, so does it matter?" She answered.

"Yes," He fell into step beside her, "It matters if you were out here planning to dig up a grave on your own with an open wound."

"Lucky for me," She beamed at him, which Stiles' found both terrifying and beautiful in light of their current circumstance, "I had some chumps I know do it for me."

She winked at him but she couldn't be sure that he saw it in the dark.

He did.

"Why didn't someone else do this? Your dad knows you have stitches, he knows you should be resting." His hand hovered over her back, but he never actually touched her, he didn't think that would go over too well.

"It's just how we do things, Stiles." She said, inwardly sighing with relief when she spotted her car, "I'm fine."

"Get some sleep." He demanded, then adding under his breath, "For all of us." Not only was he _so not_ sleeping tonight, he'd be drinking coffee to keep himself awake. He refused to have nightmares about that body.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Group Hang

"You're a werewolf, Scott." Stiles explained, a fact they were both well aware of. They were on the front steps of the school, both exhausted from the night before. "She doesn't trust you."

"So, she trusts you?"

"Not a chance in hell," Stiles replied, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, "but at least she hasn't been trained to kill _me_."

"Have you seen Allison yet?" Scott asked, surveying the school, ignoring Stiles' logic.

"No," Said Stiles, "But it's not like we have homeroom with her or anything - oh wait-"

"Shut up, Stiles." The pair rolled their eyes simultaneously, and continued up the front steps to class.

Homeroom proved to be an unideal place to talk to Alex, something Scott had been obsessing over since last night. Everyone in the class was made to pair up and begin a reading exercise. Stiles watched Alex interact with Allison, she smiled - one that never seemed to fully reach her eyes, and she joked, making her sister laugh.

Stiles had been wondering if Allison knew anything, or was trained like Alex was. They'd only ever seen Alex and her father hunting so it seemed obvious that Allison was oblivious, and that her sister was actively keeping that part of her life a secret. It made Stiles wonder why Chris Argent had chosen to turn Alex's life upside down and protect Allison from it.

Alex winced every now and then when she shifted her body a certain way, irritating her stitches. Allison didn't notice the way her sisters face contorted in pain, but Stiles did. He also noticed her look of worry every time she caught Allison and Scott staring at each other.

"Dude," Prodded Scott, "Are you even paying attention?"

"Huh?" Stiles snapped his head towards Scott, who was standing over his desk, backpack secured on his back.

"The bell rang." Scott said, passing Stiles his bag, "And Alex is gone, so can we go?"

Stiles dumped his things from his desk into his open bag and followed Scott out of the classroom.

He didn't see Alex again until lunch hour when he was sitting with Scott at their usual table. He was surprised when they were joined by a horde of exceptionally beautiful people.

Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Allison and Alex, and a couple of other players from the lacrosse team.

Stiles looked to Scott who wore a matching look of confusion because they usually sat alone, completely invisible to people like Lydia Martin. The newcomers were engaged in a conversation that Stiles had been too caught of guard to pay attention to.

"So," Continued Lydia, "What are we doing tonight?"

Allison looked like she had just been caught with her hand the cookie jar as Lydia spoke the question directly to her. "You and Scott are bowling or something tonight, right? What time should we meet you at?"

It was clear to Stiles that Lydia was inviting herself, it was also clear that Allison was too polite to explain that she and Scott had planned a date, one that Stiles had been hearing about non stop since Scott had asked her on it.

Jackson looked irritated at the thought of spending any amount of time with Scott, Lydia looked expectant and Alex was slugging back on her silver flask, hiding a very obvious smirk. Her drinking had caught the attention of the table and she threw a withering look in their general direction.

"What?" She shrugged, looking more irritated than Jackson, "Liquid lunch. Anyway," She continued, wincing like the words that were about to come out of her mouth physically pained her, "I'll come bowling."

"Me too!" Stiles barely recognized his own voice as he eagerly volunteered to join the disaster date. He hated bowling.

"Great." Said Allison, looking guilt ridden as she looked at Scott, "A group hang."

Alex looked bored and unimpressed as they continued to prattle on about mundane high school shit. Scott decided to take the opportunity to get some much needed answers.

"Alex," He said, gaining her attention, "Can Stiles and I talk to you about the english assignment?"

"Right." She rolled her eyes, already bored, "What about it?"

"Let's go to my locker," Scott said, standing from the table, "To get my notes."

 _What a pathetic excuse of a lie,_ she thought, _he's going to need to get better at that._

"Alex, Allison," Started Lydia before Alex left to follow Scott and Stiles, "I'll come to your house tonight and we can get ready together."

Alex didn't bother answering before turning on her heel and following Scott and Stiles out the cafeteria. She could just hear Allison making an excuse for her behaviour and saying, "That's 'Alex Speak' for, 'I'm super excited, can't wait.'"

Alex almost laughed out loud when she heard Jackson respond with all of his usual sarcasm, "Look's like we speak the same language."

The boys locker room smelled just as bad as she was anticipating when Scott threw open the door. He looked around, making sure no one was there before starting in on her with the worlds lamest game of twenty questions.

"Does Allison know?" He paused, "What you and your family do?"

"I thought we went over the fact that I don't owe you any answers." She said, taking a seat on one of the benches, cradling her side as she did. "Easy, Stilinski. I'm fine." Alex said when she saw him take three giant steps towards her.

"Please." Was all Scott said, looking more desperate than she thought was possible.

"No," Alex sighed, taking pity on him, "Allison doesn't know." She watched Scott's face smooth over in relief. "It's in all of our best interests if we keep her out of this."

Scott said nothing while he stared absentmindedly at one of the lockers. "Derek didn't bite me." He phrased the statement like it was a question.

"Like I told Sherlock over here," Alex gestured to Stiles, who was still watching her closely with concern, "It's impossible. Only an Alpha can give the bite."

"So, there is another werewolf running around biting teenagers in the woods." He ran a hand through his impressively messy dark hair, "Who killed that girl in the Preserve?"

"Actually," Stiles piped in, "I was listening in on one of my dads calls. Turns out, it was Laura Hale and they're calling it an animal attack."

"Animal attack." Alex rolled her eyes, "Fuck chivalry, creativity is the thing that's dead. Oldest cover-up in the book, but I guess that rules out Derek."

"Rules out Derek?" Scott inquired.

"Derek and Laura aren't just family," Alex explained, trying to stand from the bench, Stiles was at her side in an instant, offering her a hand that went ignored, "They were part of the same pack."

"So?" Said Scott, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"If you live long enough to find out for yourself, you'll understand that the bond between pack members is stronger and more adhesive than family."

"Can you stop saying stuff like that?" Scott said, raising his voice in frustration.

"Like what?" She asked, side eyeing Stiles who couldn't seem to keep more than an arms length away from her.

"'I haven't killed you yet', 'If you live long enough to find out'!" He cried out, hands clenched in fists at his side, repeating her past words to him.

"You'll come to appreciate my honesty, Scott." She said, turning towards the door, "People like us, ones who know the truth, we tell more lies than we take breaths in a day." She grabbed the door handle, pulled it open and looked back at the two, "I'll see you boys tonight."

She disappeared through the door, something Stiles was coming to realize, was something she did often.

"Oh, Allison. Absolutely not." Lydia said, dismissing the outfit choice with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. "Look at Alex," She praised, "Now there is an outfit."

Alex was wearing a plaid skirt with a dark blue crop top, her hair was down in loose waves and her makeup was light. Except for the concealer on her under eyes of course, if she applied that lightly, she was liable to make small children cry.

Hidden under her skirt were her favourite silver tipped throwing knives and every now and then they would brush her upper thigh, comfortingly.

"Alex," Groaned her sister, frustrated with the millionth outfit Lydia had veto'ed, "Where's your flask?"

Alex laughed and smiled at Lydia, anyone who drove her sister to drink was fine in her books. She reached for her jacket and fished around in the pockets for the familiar smooth shape. She tossed the newly refilled flask to her sister.

Lydia tossed some clothes at Allison, who was too busy slugging back whiskey, so they hit her face and fell limply to the ground. Their father chose that exact moment to walk through the door, without knocking, and Allison quickly through the flask back to Alex. It glinted in the florescent lights as she caught it in her hands, staring at her father.

"It's Alex's!" Cried Allison, pointing an accusing finger at her sister. Alex rolled her eyes and pocketed the offending object.

"I think I'd be the worlds biggest hypocrite if I pretended that I didn't indulge when I was your age." Chris smiled at Allison, "But, Argent's value loyalty. Don't be so quick to throw your sister under the bus." He looked at Alex, "No more of that tonight. Who's driving?"

"I am, Mr. Argent." Lydia smiled sweetly from the bed, "and I don't drink. It's all empty calories."

Chris smiled, seemingly appeased by the answer, told them to have fun and left.

"Dude," Alex chided, throwing a pillow at Allison when she heard her father's footsteps descend the stairs, "Not cool!"

"Oh, come on," She said, pulling her shirt over her head to let Lydia force a new one over it, "You know he lets you get away with everything. The last time he found booze in my room, he grounded me for a month! Besides," She shrugged, appraising her new shirt in the mirror, "I didn't lie, it is yours."

"Your dad does seem alarmingly okay with underage drinking." Lydia commented distractedly, picking out jewellery for Allison.

Alex didn't say anything. She knew they were right. It wasn't like her dad didn't notice that his wet bar was steadily depleted, specifically of the good whiskey. He allowed her such follies because it was a strange world they lived in - her and her dad. The fact that she couldn't come home and have a drink after being out all night killing werewolves, simply because of her age, seemed ridiculous to Chris Argent.

"Come on," Lydia clapped her hands, finally finished with Allison, "Let's go."

Lydia ushered the girls into her car, blasting music and pulling out of their driveway, Alex watched Allison dance and sing the front seat while poking Lydia until she joined in.

 _Lightweight_ , though Alex, fishing her flask out of her pocket.

The bowling alley was loud and crowded, and everything Alex hated. There was also something fundamentally wrong about borrowing shoes like books from the library.

"Don't look so happy to be here." Allison said, coming to sit beside her as they were the first to get their shoes and lace them up.

"Believe me, I'm trying."

"Then why did you come?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"Because you're here." Alex smiled, telling Allison the truth.

"We see each other all the time." Allison laughed, her eyebrows pulling down at the corners, questioning.

"I wanted to make up for missing the party." Alex finished, her smile gone. At this point she could barely imagine having a conversation with Allison that didn't involve at least one lie.

"Consider yourself forgiven." Allison smiled, pulling her up off of her seat, "And be nice tonight, specifically to Stiles."

"Stilinski?" She questioned, eyes wandering to where he was standing with Scott, Lydia and Jackson. He was attempting to pick up a bowling ball and failing miserably. He watched with wide eyes as Jackson breezed by him, picking up two and scoffing as he made his way back to Lydia's side. Alex watched as Stiles then pretended to be looking for something under the bowling balls to save face.

"He's totally crushing on you." Allison finished, having seen Stiles' bowling ball dilemma and politely pretending she hadn't.

"No." Alex demanded, rolling her eyes, "He's just intrigued."

 _Because I'm a hunter and his best friend was just bitten by the very thing I've been trained all my life to kill._

"Because I'm the new girl."

"So am I." Allison reasoned.

"You're also in love with his best friend." Alex countered, "I'm sure guys have a code, too. Enough bullshit, let's get this 'group hang' over with."

Lydia started the game, bowling a strike with perfect form, which was less surprising to Alex the more she got to know the girl. Jackson looked almost as bored as she felt, and Scott and Allison were whispering like love struck morons in the corner. Alex was sitting next to Stiles who was loudly eating curly fries and droning on about all the boring shit he had heard on his hijacked police radio frequency.

"I hate bowling." She muttered, more to herself than to him.

"Huh?" He cut himself off, mouth full of fries.

"I hate bowling." She repeated, "In fact, I fucking loathe it."

"You came to keep an eye on Allison, because of Scott." He declared, nodding to where Allison was trying to help Scott not totally suck at bowling.

"That obvious?" She asked, stealing a curly fry from him.

He smiled and looked down at his feet, "Only because I recognized the look on your face when you said you'd come."

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"The same on that was on mine." He said, tapping his fingers on his already bouncing knee, "I came to keep an eye on you."

"I'm the last person who needs to be looked after." She commented, unable to look him in the eye for some reason.

"I can't believe you've deluded yourself into believing that." He was looking at her with an intensity she found unrelenting and it was making her uncomfortable. "You look really pretty, by the way."

"What planet are you from, Stilinski?" She asked, unable to keep up with his constantly changing train of thought.

"Just figured I'd throw in a compliment before you either, told me to 'fuck off', or just walked away." He waved a curly fry around in the air, "Those seem to be your 'go to' moves."

"Watch the attitude, Stiles." She smiled, "You'd be surprised what I can hide under this skirt."

He gulped with wide eyes, not wide with fear but with something she recognized as more hormonal. Alex rolled her eyes and fixed him with a glare, she lifted her skirt higher up on her thigh and his intake of breath was sudden and intense. She stopped when her holster and daggers were clearly visible to him. "Weapons, pervert."

If he hadn't looked like he was going to have a heart attack before, he certainly did now.

"I hate bowling, too." He said after taking a moment to compose himself, "Wanna get out of here?" He cringed at his choice of words and hoped she wouldn't think it was some kind of pick up line. He thought it plausible that if she thought he was trying to pick her up, she'd probably slit his throat.

"So much." She said, "But it kind of defeats the purpose of putting myself through this adolescent hell, only to leave Allison here. Alone."

"Not only are you a total badass," He started earning a smirk, "You're also intelligent, so I'm pretty sure, that as much as it's been ingrained in you to hate Scott, you can see that he would never hurt anyone. Especially Allison."

"I am a total badass." She agreed.

"Exactly, so he would classify as the dumbest werewolf _ever_ if he did anything to piss you off." He said standing and offering her his hand, he continued as an afterthought, "Allison is also totally out of his league, so I know he wouldn't do anything to mess it up. It's a full blown miracle that she's even interested in him."

"You're working with some solid logic." She said, standing up without taking his hand, "Also, if I have to watch anymore of this pointless fucking game, I'm going to kill something." She patted her thigh, "Myself, maybe."

Allison was too busy distracting Scott with visions of her dancing naked in his head to notice her sister sneak out the door with Stiles, dumping their shoes unceremoniously on the floor as they went.

"So," Stiles began as they sat in his parked Jeep, listening to the police scanner, "Where did you move from?"

"If you ask Allison, she'll say San Francisco." Said Alex, her feet kicked up on the dashboard. Stiles had been trying not to look at her outstretched legs since she'd made herself comfortable. "But we weren't there long enough for it to really count."

"Sounds like a story." Stiles pressed.

"Well, we were technically moving from Washington to Beacon Hills, but a friend of my fathers needed our help." She explained, pausing briefly, "Our specific brand of _help_. It was only supposed to take a day or two, but the clan of bloodsuckers proved to be a bigger threat than we thought."

"Vampires?" Asked Stiles, leaning in closer, "Shit. What _isn't_ real."

"You'd be disappointed." She said, vague. Stiles noted that seemed to be one of her themes.

"So, how did you, uh, you know, finish the job?" He asked, inwardly groaning at how lame he sounded.

"Vampires need to be beheaded." She continued, "Nasty stuff. They had us cornered in an abandoned hotel basement. The fight lasted two days. There had to be around fifty of them living down there, feeding on humans. Judging by the bones, they seemed to prefer children."

Stiles wore an expression of horror.

"We used mostly flaming arrows and swords, neither of which I'm too familiar with. I prefer knives."

"So I've seen."

"It might not seem like it," She continued as Stiles listened with rapt attention, "But two days was quick work. We were in the homestretch when I was caught off guard. One of them bit down, right here," She gestured to her ribcage and pulled up her shirt where he saw one long, thick white scar starting just below her breast and ending at her hip. "I swung the sword down on his neck, but with the force of his bite and the strength of my sword, as I cut through his neck, I dragged his head," She trailed her finger down the length of the scar, "All the way down. Basically tore me in half. So, I spent a month in the hospital."

"Holy shit." Was all Stiles could muster, "So you had a decapitated head dangling from your body, attached by only a tooth?"

"Pretty much." She nodded, "It was gnarly." She recalled the image of her father standing over her as she bled out in the dank basement. It was the only time she could remember seeing remorse in his eyes for what he had taught her to do. "We told Allison I was in a motorcycle accident," Alex laughed, "She made me sell mine after that."

"So, your family lived there while you recovered?" Stiles' eyes strayed to the small strip of her abdomen that was visible above her skirt and swallowed audibly.

"Yeah. Allison really liked it there." She stated, "I, obviously, was not a fan."

"How many times have you almost died?" He questioned, returning his gaze to the window.

She didn't provide him with an answer, only a humourless laugh. He got the point.

The police scanner crackled to life, filling the new silence.

" _We have a possible 491 on Oak Street, all units, who is responding?"_

"What's a 491?" She asked.

"Gunshots. Possible gunshots." He explained, looking down at the clock, "Holy shit, it's two. I don't see Lydia's car, they must have left. I should get you home."

"Fuck that." She smiled, eyeing him with a dangerous glint in her eye, "Lets see who's getting so trigger happy at two in the morning." Her smile only grew when she saw her own excitement mirrored in his eyes.

"Your aunt?" Stiles exclaimed, wide eyed, "Figures." He deadpanned, ducking lower to floor of the Jeep. "Who did she just shoot?"

"My best guess," She concluded, watching her aunt inspect the damage to her car, "Derek."

"Does your family still think he killed the girl in the woods?" He asked, "Do they know it was his sister?"

"I don't know how in the loop she is," Alex said, "But I do know that Kate wouldn't care either way. She's ruthless with more than a hint of psychosis." She put a hand on Stiles' shoulder to get his attention, "Listen closely, Stilinski. You need to tell Scott to lay low while Kate is in town. Real fucking low."

"What are you doing?" He demanded watching her remove her knives from her thigh holster.

"I'm going to go out there, placate my aunt and take control of this extremely shitty situation." Alex stated, hand on the Jeeps door handle, "Lay low, Stiles." She reiterated, "Wait until we're gone before you leave." Her knives glinted as she quietly opened the door.

"The police are coming, be quick."

"See you in homeroom."

Alex crept around the side of the building, trying to create the scenario that she had come running from the opposite direction of where Stiles was parked. She took off at a sprint towards her aunt, a fake look of concern on her face. Kate spotted her immediately, still on edge, but she smiled darkly when she recognized her niece, knives in hand and ready for a fight.

"Kate?" Alex asked with fake surprise etched on to her face.

"Alex." Kate smiled, "I almost didn't recognize you, Gorgeous."

Alex halted to a stop in front of the familiar smirking face. "What can I say?" She matched her smirk, "It's genetic."

Kate laughed in response and moved to hug her niece. When she pulled back, she fixed Alex with a curious gaze, "What are you doing out here?"

"I was out with friends." She explained, not missing a beat, "I got bored, made an excuse to bail so I could do some patrolling."

"That's my girl." Kate said, leaning back on her car casually, broken glass crunching under her feet, "You missed the fun."

"Looks like it." Alex observed, clocking the bullet holes and shattered car window.

"Hale's always put up a good fight." Kate stated, eyes on the roof of the building, "I got the bastard pretty good, though."

Alex only hoped that it wasn't Scott who had been roaming around tonight, but she didn't think he would randomly attack a woman. That seemed more up Derek's alley, especially considering his history with Kate.

"Oh. Good." Said Kate, "Here's Chris."

Alex watched the familiar SUV screech to a stop in front of them and Chris emerged looking murderous. "Put the gun away, Kate."

"Relax, Chris." She smiled, poking him with the barrel of the gun. "While you were at home watching late night tv with your wife, the women were out here kicking ass and taking names." She winked at Alex.

"What are you doing out here, Alex?" Her father questioned, "Allison came home without you."

"Bowling isn't really my thing. This, however . . ." Alex gestured to the scene in front of her.

"The two of you together," Chris shook his head, trailing off meaningfully. He shook his head, "Let's get home. We'll call a tow in the morning."

The three piled into the car and as they drove away, Alex threw a quick glance backwards at the blue jeep hidden in the shadows.

When Alex got home she headed straight for the garage, de-gearing and listening to her father fill Kate in on the latest supernatural news.

"Derek wouldn't kill his own sister." Chris said, "So, the kill isn't justified."

"Not justified?" Kate said, scoffing, "I do believe he _attacked_ me tonight."

"We don't know that was him." Chris reasoned, "It could have been the other Beta."

"The second Beta isn't a priority." Alex said quickly, hoping not too quickly as to garner suspicion, "We need to think logically, not just about killing everything in our path."

"What are you saying?" Kate asked, all hints of fondness gone - this was the Kate she knew, the one who sneered at her and always hit a little to hard in training sessions.

"The Alpha is the threat, the 'big bad', if you will." Alex said, cleaning her knives methodically before putting them away, "It would be stupid not to prioritize that threat."

"But Derek -"

"Derek didn't kill his sister." Alex interrupted Kate, "He has no pack, he's basically an Omega. The other Beta isn't even a blip on my radar." Alex hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She couldn't believe she was actively protecting Scott McCall by lying through her teeth to her family. "We focus on the Alpha. It is the threat."

"Fine." Kate spit out, "Derek won't last long, anyway. That wolfsbane bullet packs a nasty punch."

Alex said nothing as she walked inside the house. She peeked in Allison's room before closing the door quietly and falling in her own bed. Thoughts barrelled around in her head, keeping her awake. She had never lied to her dad about the hunt. They protected people from werewolves and other supernatural threats, and now she was protecting the threat from her father. Why? Because he had that lost puppy dog face and a debilitating crush on her sister?

Alex knew she was digging her own grave, but she'd always had great instincts and she'd been taught to rely on them and trust them. She had a gut instinct about Scott, one that had her believing that he deserved to live.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Family Dinner

"Okay," Said Allison, barging into Alex's room, "Last night. You and Stiles?" The insinuation was clear and Alex had never felt the urge to hit her sister as much as she did in that moment.

"Did you say anything to dad?" Was her first question. Not because the insinuation was correct, but because she had told her father and Kate that she ditched her friends, not that she'd taken off with one.

"No, I just said that you bailed." She shrugged, "Which you totally did, but Stiles? He's so not your type. You eat boys like him for breakfast." She smiled as Alex sat upright in her bed and fixed her sister with a glare. "I know I told you to be nice, but not _that_ nice."

"It wasn't like that." Alex said, throwing the covers off of her, revealing her bra and underwear combination. "He hates bowling almost as much as I do. We just sat in his awful car and listened to a police scanner he rigged into it." She yawned and stretched. Another night with little sleep. "It wasn't that bad, actually."

"If by 'wasn't that bad' you mean 'kinda weird'." She rolled her eyes, sitting on Alex's bed crosslegged. "Scott and I had a great night."

"I saw that." Alex looked at her sister with a mocking smile and began speaking in an annoying voice that was an octave too high, "'Picture me naked, Scott.'"

Allison went as red as a beet and fell over sideways on the bed, covering her head with Alex's grey comforter. She squealed in embarrassment and mumbled from beneath the covers, "I can't believe you heard that."

"I hear everything." Alex smiled, looking at her sister in the mirror while she began to get ready for the school day, "Also, you should go find Aunt Kate, you are her favourite, after all."

Allison whipped the covers off of her head and sat up with a smile, all embarrassment gone, "Aunt Kate is here?" Before Alex had even gotten one word out of her mouth, Allison was sprinting out of her room and bounding down the stairs yelling excitedly for their Aunt.

"At least one of her nieces likes her." Alex mumbled under her breath.

School had come and gone with little to no excitement and Alex was actually in a good mood. No one had pissed her off, nothing supernatural had elicited any knife throwing, and she'd even aced her english paper.

It had been a long time since she'd had a perfectly normal day.

Which is why it came as no surprise when it all came crashing down around her.

She was out for a run, jogging down the sidewalk, which she liked to do in order to maintain her stamina. Her neighbourhood was a nice one and the sidewalk felt great underneath her feet. Jogging was a perfectly normal thing a perfectly normal girl would be doing on a Friday afternoon. Her smile was almost genuine. Until a hauntingly familiar blue Jeep tore around the corner and came to a screeching halt beside her. Stiles rolled down the window.

"We have a problem." He said, rolling down the window to the backseat, perfectly showcasing a very unhealthy looking Derek Hale.

"Oh no." Alex said, taking out her headphones and shaking her head determinedly. "Not today." She finished and began looking around, "Also, are you fucking crazy? Bringing him into my neighbourhood. Jesus, I'm surrounded by morons."

"Nice to see you." Stiles smiled, like he was completely unaware he was harbouring a dying werewolf in his backseat, "You look great."

"One normal day." She lamented, more to herself than to either of the two males in her company. She got in the Jeep, anyway. This was starting to become a habit.

"Stiles, I'm going to kill you." Moaned Derek from the backseat, "What the hell is _she_ doing here?"

"Well," Stiles started, "You ungrateful little-" Stiles cut himself off when an inhuman growl emanated from the back of his car, "She's a hunter, one I trust. So, if we need to find a magical bullet to save your little werewolf ass, she's our best option. Besides, I don't think your in the position to be questioning my authority."

"You can't trust a hunter." Derek said, he seemed to be a having a difficult time catching his breath. "A hunter is the reason we're in this situation."

"We?" Stiles asked, incredulously, throwing his hands dramatically in the air and glaring at Derek in the rearview mirror.

"You know," Alex said, sounding bored despite their current situation, "Not that watching you two flirt wasn't first on my 'to do list' today, but Stiles has a fantastic point." She turned around to glare at the moody shapeshifter, "My aunt put that bullet in you, so you are looking at your best chance of survival, right here," She pointed to herself, "Take a page out of Stilinski's book, and starting telling me how great I look."

Stiles' cheeks darkened in the driver's seat as he turned a sharp corner, jostling Derek in the back who swore loudly. She saw his eyes widen with recognition when she mentioned her Aunt and he launched himself forward, inches away from her face.

"You!" He yelled out, "You were the hunter in the woods! The one who almost killed me."

"Come and get me, Big Boy." She echoed the same taunt she had used that night and he bared his teeth at her, "Whatever," She rolled her eyes, "You stuck a tree branch through me. Colour us even."

Derek seemed pacified for the moment and Stiles took the opportunity to fill Alex in on what exactly he was about to drag her into.

"We need to get the bullet Kate used, get it to Deaton," Stiles turned sharply once more, "And save his life."

"Why should I help him?" Alex questioned, her hands ghosting over her side. The discomfort was gone but seeing Derek had created a phantom pain, "Scott is one thing, but Derek fucking Hale? No way."

"I'm right here!" Derek yelled, his voice actually sounding quite frightening. He was deteriorating. Fast.

"Scott needs him." Stiles reasoned, "Besides, I really don't want him to die in my car." He side eyed her with a hopeful look.

"Valid." She agreed, "You'd have a hell of a time trying to get that smell out."

Stiles cringed, "So, how do we do this?"

"How do you feel about a family dinner?" She asked, smiling in that beautiful way that also scared him shitless.

Alex had dragged Stiles up to her room before anyone in her family could see her and the unexpected guest sprint through the foyer and up the stairs. They'd dropped Derek and all of his dead weight at the animal clinic with the promise that they would be back soon, hopefully before he kicked the bucket, with the wolfsbane bullet.

Stiles was putting away his phone after three unanswered calls and grumbled out, "Where the hell is Scott?"

"Hopefully, laying low." She answered dropping his hand and ushering him through her bedroom door. "I'm serious about my aunt."

"What's my excuse for being here?" He asked, taking a look around her room. He'd never been in a member of the opposites sexes' bedroom before. Well, not as a teenager. He noticed that her walls were grey, with a lot of black and white pictures in black frames hanging on them. It was very simple, a room he'd expect of a young adult, not a sixteen year old. He turned around to look at her and nearly choked on his own sharp intake of breath. Alex had taken off her jogging clothes and was clad in only a pair of tight fitting jeans. The sight of her bare, lithe back had him clasping his hands over his chest, knowing he should look away but being physically unable to.

"You are my English project partner, here to study." She said easily, "You're here to eat dinner, and ultimately steal from my aunt."

"As long as we're being honest." He said, more than a little dazed as she threw on a light green tank top that looked tantalizingly like silk sliding over her skin.

Stiles tried not to stare open mouthed when she turned around to face him with a smile, "Showtime."

He followed her down the stairs wondering if at any point tonight it would be socially acceptable to take a cold shower.

When they entered the kitchen he was met with smiling faces, a sight he hadn't expected when he pictured this event in his mind. Mostly, he pictured murder, and Japanese Ring Daggers.

"Well," Chris smiled at the pair, "Looks like we're having a party!"

Alex smiled wide at her father, "I hope you don't mind, I invited my friend from class. Everyone this is Stiles - and yes, that's his name."

Stiles waved with a warm smile, looking like the picture perfect person to ever meet anyone's parents. It made Alex angry.

Alex's mother was at the sink washing the dishes while music played softly in the background, she was humming and smiling at Stiles. Chris was drinking a beer at the bar and showing Jonathon something on the family iPad. Kate was sitting on the kitchen counter near the two, doing nothing and being absolutely useless.

Alex didn't see Stiles introduce himself pointedly to everyone, nor did she see the handshakes or the genuine smiles he received, because she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who was helping Allison set the table, Scott Fucking McCall.

Alex grabbed Stiles' arm in a death grip that contradicted the sickly sweet smile on her face and said lowly as to not arouse suspicion from her family, "What the fuck is McCall doing here?"

"Not laying low." Was his extremely unhelpful answer.

"Stiles?" Questioned Scott, coming into the kitchen to grab more plates, "What are you doing here?"

"Uh," It seemed everyone was looking at them now, "Studying. With Alex."

"The more the merrier!" Smiled Kate, hopping off of the counter and appraising Stiles, "What are they giving you boys here in Beacon Hills? You two are just so handsome-"

Allison cut her off with a giggle and said, sounding scandalized, "Aunt Kate!"

"Honesty is the best policy." Responded Kate, returning her attention to Chris and Jonathon.

"Come on, you two. Help with the plates." Allison demanded, gesturing to the table in the next room.

Alex balled her fists at her sides and when Allison left the three to grab more spoons Alex rounded on Scott and Stiles, brandishing her mothers good silverware.

"You'd be surprised at the damage a well aimed butter knife can do." She said menacingly with narrowed eyes.

"No, I don't think I would be." Stiles said, eyes wide and hands in the air.

"Jesus." Muttered Scott, glancing worriedly at the dining room entrance.

"I told you assholes to lay low." She hissed while taking a step forward, effectively backing them into a wall.

"I did tell him!" Stiles defended. "He _chose_ not to listen." Stiles glared pointedly at Scott, "And now look at what you've gotten us into."

"Scott, fuck." Alex shook her head, "You really shouldn't be here."

"Could we discuss this without weapons?" Scott asked, sighing with relief when she lowered the utensil.

"Just don't speak. Or look anyone in the eye." She demanded, then added with a shrug, "Or breathe."

"Great." He replied sarcastically, "Where's Derek?"

"Safe." Answered Stiles, going back to setting the table, "The animal clinic. But the faster we get that bullet, the better. He was starting to smell like death."

Scott made a face that suggested he'd rather not have heard that, but when Allison walked back through the entrance, the looked melted right off of his face, replaced by a goofy smile.

"Alex," She smiled, a look on her face that her sister recognized as something cheeky, "Jonathon is looking for you." Then, to top it off, she winked.

As if on cue, the man in questione sauntered in after Allison. Alex gave him a once over. Jonathon never had any emotion on his face, it was always blank and she could never tell if he was hiding everything he felt or if he was just a sociopath.

"Alex," He said smoothly, looking from her to her classmates and stepping further into the room to stand directly in front of her. "You look lovely."

Alex looked up at him, because he was so tall and smiled a pretty and demur smile that Scott and Stiles, who were watching the exchange, had never seen on her face before. They had never seen her look anything other than bored, or terrifying. The way she was smiling at the newcomer had them both staring in shock, for different reasons.

"Thank you." She said, sincere.

"Can I talk to you for moment before dinner?" He asked, extending his arm to her. She wordlessly agreed by taking his extended arm and following him to the sliding glass door, through it, and on to the patio.

"Who the hell was that?" She heard Stiles demanding as the sliding glass door was closing, followed closely by Scott and Allison's laughter.

The night air was chilly and Alex wrapped her arms around herself, an act she would never do in front of anyone else. It seemed too fragile an action for someone of her stature.

"Your aunt is here." He stated, a line of worry etched into his forehead.

"Yeah," She said, "She made quite an entrance, too."

"Kate is not good news, Alex." He looked her in the eyes, the way he used to when they trained together in Washington. The look that said he wanted to protect her by bossing her around. "She's always been extremely competitive with you."

"I'm aware." She stated. The difference between now and when she lived in Washington was that she didn't like when people bossed her around to keep her safe. She might have found it endearing when she was younger and learning all about the terribly unsafe world they lived in, but now she knew how to handle herself, and the way he was looking at her was simply offensive.

"Your mother doesn't show signs of telling Allison anything." He started, putting a hand on her bare shoulder, "Which means that you are her main competition right now. I've know Kate a long time, too long, and the only thing she cares about is power. Right now, you have more than she does."

"Your point being?" She leaned slightly into his touch and hated herself for it. He rubbed his thumb over her clavicle, almost imperceptibly.

"That I want you to be careful."

Alex had received many warnings in her lifetime and she could recognize this one a mile away.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Tough Crowd

"Why is she letting him touch her?" Stiles questioned, squinting his eyes at the sliding glass door, hoping to see what was going on out there. "Why hasn't she killed him yet?"

The question was serious, but Allison laughed, laying her head on Scott's shoulder.

"She's not as much of a hard ass as she likes to pretend she is." Allison smiled, speaking to Stiles' but looking at Scott affectionately.

 _Obviously_ , Stiles thought bitterly, _she doesn't know her sister very well._

The adults had started to filter into the dining room, bringing numerous plates of food and setting it all down at the table. Alex and Jonathon came in shortly after. Jonathon took a seat to the left of Chris, who was sitting at the head of the table, and Mrs. Argent sat to his right, across from Jonathon. Stiles sat right beside Alex, and naturally Scott and Allison were sitting as close as humanly possible without someone being in the others lap.

Stiles thought that one of them might drop dead if they were separated by more than three feet at any given time.

He was surprised to find that Kate Argent had taken the other available head of the table.

Everyone began to help themselves to the food on the table. It was a veritable feast; roast potatoes, leg of lamb, three different salads, four different rolls, and a vegetable stir-fry. Stiles almost wished that he had been invited over for a real dinner with the Argents, as opposed to executing a heist.

"So," Smiled Kate, eyeing Jonathon, "What were you two whispering about out there?"

Chris glared at his sister and cleared his throat loudly before either of them tried to answer. "Scott, I hear you're on the lacrosse team?"

Scott's attention snapped to Allison and Alex's father, swallowing his mouthful of food and trying to make his widened eyes look normal. "Yes, uh, sir. Stiles and I are both on the team."

Stiles wanted to glare at Scott for trying to bring him into the conversation, but nodded none the less.

"Scott is one of the star players." Allison boasted, putting her hand on Scott's forearm supportively.

"What about you, Stiles?" Victoria asked. She was carving the lamb, wielding a knife that was probably bigger than his leg, and he was trying not to freak out because the woman was absolutely terrifying.

"I keep the bench nice and toasty." He joked, grinning. Looking around the table he realized that no one had gotten his joke, or if they did, they hadn't found it the slightest bit funny. His grin melted off of his face instantly.

"Tough crowd." Alex said, into her glass of water, letting out a snort of laughter.

Stiles felt a wave of gratefulness for Alex in that moment.

"How are your grades, Scott?" Asked Chris. The question seemed innocent enough but there was a warning edge to his voice that was menacing. Stiles was just glad the line of questioning was being directed at someone other than him.

"Wow, Chris." Laughed Kate, leaning back into her chair with her glass of red wine pressed to her bottom lip, "Ease up. It's dinner, not the Spanish Inquisition."

"Speaking of the good ol' Inquisition," Alex interrupted the tension between her father and Aunt, "Stiles and I have some studying to do."

"I thought you were studying English." Kate asked, with her eyebrow raised and a suggestive smile on her face. The Argent family seemed like masters in the art of double meanings, Stiles had noticed. There was one conversation happening on the surface, but a completely different one going on just beneath it. If you blinked, you'd probably miss it.

"It's called a segway, Kate." Alex explained, feigning exasperation and standing up from the table, pulling Stiles with her as she went. "Let's get to studying, Stilinski."

"Thank you for dinner!" He called over his shoulder with a wave of his hand that was not being held in a death grip by the girl who was dragging him through her house again. "I'm actually sweating." He said to Alex, wiping his forehead. Is your family always that," He struggled to find that right word, "intense?"

"What do you think?" She deadpanned, dragging him down a dimly lit hallway and stopping in front of a large door. She entered in a series of different pass codes before it clicked open. "I was seriously considering fashioning a noose out of napkins." She joked, swinging the door open and closing it swiftly behind them. "If her bullets will be anywhere, they'll be here."

Stiles barely heard her through his own blood rushing in his ears. The garage was stocked with various weapons, fastened around the garage with sterling silver clasps and metal grating that lined the perimeter of the room. The walls were stocked with swords of different lengths, girths, shapes, and he didn't think he'd ever seen so many guns which was strange given that his dad was the Sheriff. This wasn't a garage, this was an arsenal.

"Holy shit." Was all he could manage. " _Now_ I'm sweating."

"Dab it off, Princess," She commanded with all of her usual charm, "There should be a large metal box, about," She used her arms as a measurement, "this big. The bullet inside will have the Argent Crest on it."

She gestured to the garage door which was painted with a large mural of a wolf, shackles and the sun.

"How modest." He said, sarcastically.

They rummaged through anything and everything they could get their hands on. Stiles actively avoided touching anything that looked too dangerous, the last thing they needed was to be caught because he'd accidentally fired an automatic weapon or cut off one of his toes. He was surprised when he found a large metal box matching the description that Alex had given him. "This looks promising." He lifted it up and Alex walked over to him, lifting it out of his hands and shaking it around. "It's locked." He added, for her benefit.

"'Locked' is subjective for an Argent." She said, removing a bobby pin from her pocket, "Never leave home without one." She smiled, focusing her attention on inserting it gently into the lock.

"I thought that only worked in movies." He commented, crossing his arms over his chest as she worked away, "Really lame movies-" He cut himself off when the box lid popped open with a nearly silent 'click'. Alex flashed him a grin that had his palm sweating again.

"Got it." She teased, tossing the small bullet at him, which he clumsily dropped. It rolled to his feet as they both watched, Alex with humour in her eyes and Stiles looking slightly embarrassed.

He was constantly surrounded by supernatural creatures these days. Derek Hale, Dr. Deaton (who was so _obviously_ more than he pretended to be), and Scott, his best friend in the entire world, with whom, he had never spent more than a day apart from. Yet, he never felt more inadequately _human_ than when he was with Alex Argent.

He scrambled to pick up the bullet, holding it in between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it around absentmindedly.

"You'd better get that to the clinic," Alex said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice, "Not that I particularly care about Derek Hale, but he'll be dead soon."

"Right." Stiles said, snapping his attention back to the reality of their situation. With his luck, they'd be caught standing in the garage, bobby pin sticking out of a once locked box of werewolf killing ammo. "Thanks, Alex. Lets do this again sometime." He grinned at her eye roll, which held none of her usual contempt and let her lead him out of the garage.

.

Thank god her dad wasn't here.

That's all she had to say about about this profoundly shitty situation.

Lydia and Jackson had been attacked tonight, by the Alpha. It was getting more ballsy. Prowling around a video store was poor form as far as Alex was concerned.

Alex had shown up just before the police arrived, hidden by the cover of the trees, watching Lydia cry and Jackson bitch about wanting to go home.

She also saw Stiles riding with his dad in the Sheriff's squad car. Of course he'd be here, Scott probably wouldn't be far behind either.

Then, as if on cue, she spotted a familiar mop of dark, messy hair on the roof of the video store. The scope she was using allowed her to see that he was not alone.

With learned agility she scaled the side of the building, avoiding detection by sticking to the trees, and using the fire escape. When she lifted herself over the side of the building Derek and Scott noticed her immediately. Scott was getting better at using his new abilities.

 _Gone were the days of sneaking up on him,_ she thought.

"Derek," She greeted, "Good to see you up and about," She scanned his face and he growled, "and grumpy." She finished with a light smile she knew would bother him to no end. "What's with the attitude?" She inquired, moving to stand beside them, "You should be licking my boots right now. You think Stilinski found that wolfsbane bullet on his own, or do you have more pressing things to lick?"

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Asked Scott, only briefly switching his attention to her from the crime scene below.

"My job." She deadpanned, gesturing to her all black attire. Black yoga pants, matching black sports bra. Standard hunting gear. What the hell else would she be doing here? "I'm trying to find the motivation behind this attack. It's incredibly strange to me, because no one has been in a video store since 1990. Honestly," She continued, "this is probably where I'd hide during the zombie apocalypse. No one would ever find me."

"Stop talking." Derek demanded.

"Stop brooding." Alex countered.

"Stop flirting!" Said Scott, staring between them, obviously annoyed. His lopsided jaw had a tick in it.

"I just threw up in my mouth." Alex cringed, "Thanks, McCall."

"The Alpha is trying to get Scott's attention." Derek explained, "an Alpha with no pack is barely an Alpha at all."

"So, it's watching you." Alex concluded, turning her head to fix Scott with a stare. "It knows, that you know Lydia and Jackson."

"Why are we trusting an Argent?" Derek cut her off, "They're sneaky, manipulative-"

"Just because Kate tore apart your little prepubescent heart-"

"I'll rip out your tongue, hunter."

"I'll have fun watching you try, Cujo."

"Shut up!" Scott demanded, "We need to leave before the police tape off the area. Besides, you two need to be separated."

.

 _Allison Argent 9:34am: Skipping the day with Scott. Take notes for me._

Alex replied with a quick, no bullshit: Happy birthday. She knew how Allison felt about this day.

"So," Said Stiles, popping out of nowhere, as per usual, "Jonathon looks old. I mean, older. Experienced." He fell into step beside her on their way to homeroom, it was a routine that had developed over that past couple of weeks.

"The question being . . . ?" She rolled her eyes as a couple of jocks began to rough house in the middle of the hallway and one even taking the time to cat call her. She flashed him the finger and continued on her way.

"I just noticed that he wasn't terrible looking." Stiles said, glaring at the back of the jocks head as they passed.

"I'll ask if he's interested."

"What - no, I'm not-" He stopped when he heard her tinkling laughter, "You suck."

"Relax, Stilinski." She said, walking through the familiar door of their homeroom class, "He's just a family friend."

They took their seats and Stiles immediately turned right around in his seat to face her, "Did you hear about the attack last night?"

"Yeah," She said, lowering her voice and leaning in closer towards him, "I was there. I saw you and your dad." Then she added, "And your love affair with curly fries."

He spluttered out a few unidentifiable syllables and she looked at him oddly.

"You seem to be having more problems than usual today." She commented, pulling her books out of her bag.

"You were there last night?" He questioned, trying to remember if he'd done anything potentially embarrassing.

"It's kind of my job to be there." She set her books on her desk and eyed him curiously.

"You have to tell me these things!"

"Right," She started, an amused smile playing at her mouth, "Emerge from the darkness of the forest, tap on the Sheriff's car window and announce my presence."

"What if I had started picking my nose and eating it, and you saw!" He gestured wildly as if the mere thought caused him discomfort.

Alex snorted, "Do you pick your nose and eat it, regularly?"

"No, never-" He said quickly, but stopped mid sentence, "That's not the point."

"Do you ever have a point?"

"The point is that Lydia isn't here today and I think we should go to her house after school and see if she saw anything."

Alex got up out of her seat and moved her things to the desk directly beside his, she proceeded to sit down in it and nod at him, "I think that's a good idea."

Normally he would have latched on to her praise, but he was too thrown by her sudden change of proximity. This was some thing that, a month ago, he would have had to beg her to do.

"That's Scott's seat." He said stupidly.

"He and Allison are ditching." She shrugged.

"No one tells me anything."

.

When school ended, Stiles was waiting for Alex outside her last class. They rode to Lydia's in the Jeep while he complained that there had been a 'cool secret meeting on the rooftop of a crime scene that no one had invited him to'. He was still complaining when they knocked on Lydia's bedroom door, accompanied by her mother.

"She took something to help with her nerves." Her mother explained when they walked in on a clearly dazed and confused Lydia Martin.

"Like what?" Alex asked sarcastically, "Opium?" She walked over to the bed and sat down, holding one of Lydia's limps arms in her grasp and letting drop. Deadweight.

Lydia's mom glared at Alex and tapped lightly on her daughters shoulder. "Lydia, honey? There's an Alex and a Stiles here to see you."

"What the hell," Lydia slurred, "is a Stiles?"

"I've been asking myself that since I moved here, Dollface." Alex said, peering at Lydia as her eyes cracked open.

"Not too long, alright?" Mrs. Martin demanded, "She needs her beauty sleep." Then she left, closing the door without another word.

"How are you feeling, Lydia?" Asked Stiles, tentatively.

"I feel fantastic." She said, having a hard time with annunciating and keeping her eyes open at the same time.

"Yeah, I bet." Alex commented, examining the prescription bottle by her bed, "This is some serious shit." She unscrewed the lid and let one pill fall into her hand, which she then shoved into her pocket.

"Alex." Stiles chided, a warning edge to his voice.

"What?" She shrugged, "You don't mind, do you, Lyds?"

Lydia responded by snoring loudly from beside them.

"This," Stiles gestured to the petite strawberry blonde asleep in her absurdly pink bed, "is useless. She didn't see anything and even if she did, she won't remember it now thanks to her mothers elephant tranquillizers."

"She's definitely more amicable when she's asleep." Alex commented, standing from the bed and patting Lydia's head with a fondness shining in her eyes.

"Funny," Stiles started, "I've said the same thing about you. You were passed out from the pain of back alley stitches, but you get the point." Alex turned to glare at him but she found only a warm gaze. "You like her."

"No," She crossed her arms, taking a step away from Lydia's bed. "I tolerate her. I tolerate _all_ of you."

"I don't think so." His tone was teasing but it was grating on her nerves, "You care about Lydia Martin. Honestly," He continued, obviously having no regard for his own physical safety, "Scott and now Lydia. You're a marshmallow."

"Shut up, Stilinski." She said, but there was no anger in her voice, it was almost pleading. He seemed to take the hint and decided to change the subject. "I've been trying to reach Scott all day, he really should be here."

"It's Allison's birthday, she usually skips the day because she's an old hag." Alex shrugged, walking towards the door. "Scott's with her, they'll probably be gone a while."

"Why does she skip her birthday?" Stiles asked, following behind her and down the stairs.

"She's a year older. We're sisters. Not twins." She explained, "It doesn't make biological sense, unless I was adopted, that Allison and I would be the same age - in the same grade."

They waved goodbye to Lydia's mom and piled back into the Jeep.

"I can't believe those morons skipped on parent teacher conference night." Stiles said, revving up the Jeep. "Totally going to get busted."

"Parent teacher . . ." Alex trailed off, "Oh, shit!"

"What?" Stiles asked, slightly alarmed. Even the slightest bit of overreaction put him on edge these days, now that he knew of the supernatural world he was half expecting the tooth fairy to fly into his room at night and asphyxiate him with a piece of floss.

"My dad is going to lose his mind." She elaborated, "I have to call her."

"Good luck," Was Stiles' sarcastic response, "I've tried, like, three hundred times, both of their phones are off."

"Are you kidding me?" She asked, throwing her hands in the air, much like Stiles might have, "There's an Alpha running around town and Scott turns off his fucking phone?"

"Thank you!" Stiles shouted, in full agreement with the fiery blonde, "I'm going to kill him."

"Not if I get to him first."

"Team effort?" He supplied with a small smile.

"I usually work alone," She smiled, "But, sure, why not."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: You Owe Me an IOU

Stiles dropped Alex off at her house shortly after their excursion to Lydia's. They had both deliberated scouring the neighbourhood for Scott and Allison but eventually decided they could suffer the wrath of their respective parents as punishment for going off the grid.

When he pulled into her driveway he jumped out of the car and raced over to the passenger seat. Alex watched him curiously as he stopped outside of the car door and smiled at her from beyond the window. She rolled her eyes as he struggled to wrench the door open for her, yanking hard on the door handle before holding up one finger at her and mouthing, 'one second.'

He leveraged himself by bracing one foot against the Jeep and pulling hard. Eventually the door swung open with a rusty sounding groan.

"Do you need a ride to parents night?" He asked breathlessly, putting his outstretched hand down when she ignored it and hopped out of the car on her own.

"It's parent teacher conferences, Stilinski," She eyed him like he was ridiculous, which he was, and continued, "I think I'll ride with my _parents._ "

"Right," He shook his head with a goofy smile, "Yeah. See you there?"

"Probably." She said offhandedly, throwing a casual wave over her shoulder and walking up the steps to her house.

He didn't make a move to return to the Jeep until she closed her front door behind her.

Alex dropped her bag in the foyer and sighed, she was glad that Lydia remained oblivious to the goings on in Beacon Hills, it was one less issue she had to deal with and one less lie she had to tell.

"That kid is a total downgrade from Jonathon." Kate's voice echoed in the entryway and Alex rolled her eyes as she slipped off her boots. "I mean, he's cute, sure, but he looks like he'd keel right over if he ever saw a boob." There was a cruel smile on her angular face and Alex barely gave her the pleasure of looking at it.

"Has anyone ever told you how 'Dateline NBC' it is to sexualize underage boys?" Alex commented, walking over to the fridge and peering at its contents without really even looking.

"I'm just saying," Her aunt continued, unaware of the fact or ignoring it, that Alex wasn't into the mood to talk to her, "He might grow up in all the right places, but Jonathon is the one I'd be getting under."

Alex recoiled when Kate put a hand on her shoulder, she closed the fridge door and fixed her aunt with an unrelenting look of pure boredom. "I can give you his number."

"I already have it." She countered, "Your dad wants to talk to you in the garage."

"Thank God for small miracles." Alex muttered, turning on her heel and making a swift getaway.

"Is Allison here?" Chris asked when she stepped through the door of the garage.

"No." She replied, hoping that would be the extent of the questioning on Allison's whereabouts.

"Good." Was his distracted response. He was intensely cleaning the barrel of one of his hunting rifles and avoiding eye contact. "Kate caught Derek Hale last night."

Alex paled immediately and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "What?"

"He's in the warehouse." He looked up at her now, "Kate's been trying to get answers, but we need you to take a watch shift tonight."

"Hold on a goddamn minute." She strode confidently towards her father, rage shining in her blue eyes, "I thought we decided to prioritize. Not for Kate to go fucking rogue."

"Language."

"Fuck that."

"It doesn't matter now. She caught him. It's the biggest lead we've had in weeks." He tried to reason with his visibly upset daughter, letting the expletives slide.

"Don't tell me to take lead next time if you're just going to steam roll me when I actually make a judgement call." She said, a perfected icy glare on her face, "I'll take the watch," She turned on her heel to leave, "Don't forget about parent teacher conferences tonight."

When Alex stepped out of the garage, heart pounding and a thin sheet of guilty sweat clinging to her forehead, she nearly screamed in frustration when she saw Kate leaning casually against the wall in the hallway. Her hands were on her hips and she was smiling in the way that said, "I've won."

In Alex's humble opinion, that specific smile only looked good on her own face.

She brushed by her aunt without a word, heading straight to her room so she could put on some jogging clothes and take her frustration out on the pavement. The best way Alex knew how to combat stress was either, drinking or running. If she were to choose the former, she knew she'd be completely and totally fucked for the conferences and her watch later that evening.

Alex audibly groaned when she thought of Derek Hale strapped to the metal grating, electricity being constantly pumped through him. The bloody bastard was liable to tell Kate or her father everything about Scott. About how Alex knew and had been helping them avoid capture. She'd seen how her family had tortured the shape shifters. Hell, she'd _done_ it before. She had seen how they cracked under the pressure, begging for mercy. One simple second of reprieve. Derek was no different.

Then she thought of Stiles. Poor, human Stiles. Would he get hurt in the crossfire? And Allison, would she miss Alex when her family killed her and covered up the murder under the guise of an animal attack?

"Shit," She concluded, "This is bad."

.

What was the point of coming to these stupid teacher parent meetings if the kids weren't even allowed to partake in the conversation happening about _them?_

The anxiety is probably why, nearly all of Stiles' limbs were nervously tapping against any available surface they could find. His father wouldn't have any problems with his grades at all. It was the behavioural stuff, especially lately, that had him worried.

His nervous eyes scanned the hallways and when they landed on Alex, all of his limbs went stiff. She was walking in with her mother and father, he noted that she looked angry. Ultimately though, she looked beautiful in a light green dress that made her look otherworldly.

Which wasn't so hard to believe in this godforsaken town.

His tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth and he focused on trying to swallow when she dropped into the seat next to him. She didn't give so much as a wave to her parents who were being ushered into the English classroom.

"Nervous?" He asked, mistaking her anger for something different. He couldn't focus on much else besides the fact that when she had sat down her hand rested so close to his that he felt the heat radiating from it. He could almost imagine that she was holding his hand.

"For a whole other reason than this stupid bullshit." She muttered, glancing around with her signature unimpressed look dancing across her face. Alex passed him her flask, "You're going to need this."

He took the object, but did nothing with it besides hold it still in his hand. He looked at her with the obvious question burning in his eyes and being held on the tip of his tongue.

"My aunt has Derek." She said, distraught and staring into space, as though if she concentrated on nothing for long enough, she might fade into it herself.

"What do you mean, 'has Derek'?" Stiles questioned slowly. Alex could tell by his tone that he was trying not to freak out.

"I mean," She stressed, "That Broody Brows is currently locked in the Argent version of a torture chamber, and I'm pretty sure Kate isn't making him tea."

They were both staring into space now as Stiles removed the top of the flask and discretely took a healthy chug. He coughed as the foul-tasting liquid slid down his throat, burning as it went. She'd gone for the hard stuff tonight, tequila.

"What do we do?" He asked, handing her back the flask. Alex had been just about to hold her hand out for it and nearly smiled when she saw that he'd already read her mind. "Scott is still MIA and Derek is being tortured by your psychotic aunt."

"I have a watch tonight." She said, smoothing her dress over her legs, Stiles watched with mild fascination. "I can't just," She paused to let out a frustrated sigh, "let him go. My family would know something was up. No one escapes from The Warehouse. Fuck, this is so bad." She tipped the entire contents of the flask into her mouth and swished it around for good measure. "If Derek talks," She continued, "I'm dead. Scott's dead. Derek's dead. You too, probably." She added at his surprised face, "You're a sympathizer."

"I'm going to ignore the 'Nazi Germany' vibes that are running rampant in this conversation and ask what your plan is." Stiles had turned fully in his seat to face her, "Please, tell me you have a plan."

"I don't." She said honestly. "My family knows how to get the information that they want. Kate could ready know what we've all be doing these last few weeks." She laughed a humourless laugh that sounded so hopeless it scared Stiles. "It's what I deserve."

"What you - What you deserve?" Stiles questioned as though she was being absurd, "What are you talking about, Alex?"

The mention of her name caused her to whip her head to the side and fix him with a look he couldn't quite place, "I've been lying to my family since I got here, not to mention to Allison - my entire fucking life," She began to talk in a frantic whisper, "This is what happens when you ally yourself with the enemy. I knew this was a terrible idea when I first saw that fucking wound on Scott's wrist, but I just had to assuage my own guilt-"

"Your guilt?"

"It was so easy to see that he and Allison had a connection. I couldn't take that away from her. I thought that if I could help her have the high school dream that maybe I wouldn't feel so bad about the fact that our entire relationship is a fucking lie!" He could see the tears burning in the corners of her eyes and he wanted to reach out to her. Comfort her. Assure her that everything she was saying was simply fear. "And now, I disgraced The Code. For what? My sisters feelings? My feelings?"

"Alex, look at me." Stiles demanded, taking on an assertive tone that surprised himself.

She did what he said and realized that in an instant, all traces of 'awkward teenage boy' were gone. He held her gaze with his warm whiskey eyes and took her hand firmly in his own.

"You can figure this out. Whatever happens, we will all protect you." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, "I will protect you. Scott will protect you. But we won't need to. You don't need protection, because you will figure this out. I don't know why you decided to help Scott in the beginning, maybe it was guilt, but I know you. You're protecting him now because you see what I see; a leader, a good person with a huge heart." He stopped and added with a small smile, "Hopefully, _I_ have something to do with you being on our team, because to be honest, I'm pretty fond of you." He squeezed her hand a little tighter, "You'll figure this out, and you'll probably do it with a smile and a buzz."

Alex was surprised that she had a ghost of a smile resting on her face. She hadn't realized when it had happened, but listening to Stiles had made her feel better. He had made her feel like she hadn't made a mistake and that she would figure it out.

How had he done that?

"There she is." He said, removing his hand from hers. He wasn't sure how long she was going to let him get away with that anyway.

Alex found herself feeling rather embarrassed. She never lost her cool demeanour, or when she did, it was always when she was alone. Never in front of anyone. She had always been taught that it was weakness to show emotion like that.

But, looking at Stiles, she didn't feel weak.

She felt strong.

.

Sitting with Stiles had seemed to put Alex at ease.

Since she'd spoken with her father in the garage she felt like her whole world was crashing down around her and all she could do was stand there at watch as everything burned.

Somehow, this kind-eyed, spastic boy had talked her off of the ledge and had her laughing only minutes after she'd been ready to hang herself out to dry.

Alex had never really had the time to make friends, mostly because she knew of a world that most could barely dream of. It was a relief to find someone who knew that the things that go 'bump' in the night weren't always things, but creatures. It was refreshing to have that same person also be human. She felt extreme gratitude towards the boy sitting beside her, not that she would ever tell him that, but some part of her hoped that he _felt_ it, none the less.

Soon enough the adults began to filter out of the classrooms, some looking disappointed and some looking pleased. Alex wasn't surprised, some of these people had raised serious dumbasses.

Stiles and Alex both stood from the bench when her parents approached them. Stiles waved his father over, who had filtered out of the same classroom.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Argent," Stiles' smile was wide, "This is my dad, the Sheriff."

"Ah, Stiles, nice to see you again." Chris smiled and shook Stiles' hand. Alex rolled her eyes, Stiles was a parents wet dream.

 _Brown noser._

Chris then turned towards Noah Stilinski with his hand extended and they began the mundane introductions while her mother stood there with a fake smile plastered to her fake face.

"Stiles was a pleasure to have over for dinner the other night." Chris said, making the obligatory small talk.

"He certainly wouldn't shut up about it." The Sheriff joked, nudging Stiles playfully, "Alex this, Alex that." Noah smiled with all of the same warmth that Alex recognized in Stiles, directly at her. "You must be Alex."

"Nice to meet you, Sheriff." She said politely, using a certain smile that she saved for people of authority.

Stiles groaned with his head in his hands, embarrassed by his fathers antics.

"Dad, we should probably leave. Right now. So you can ground me because of whatever Coach told you." He rushed out, eyeing his dad and tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

"We should head home, too." Said Alex's mother, "Where Allison _must_ be, we need to have a little chat with her."

The trio of adults led the way, walking ahead of Stiles and Alex who trailed behind.

"Just so you know," Stiles said, wringing his hands nervously, "I'm not constantly talking about you, you know, like my dad was saying." He was trying to sound causal.

"I like your dad." She said, changing the subject for his benefit, "He reminds me of what you'll be like when you're older." She immediately wished that the words would get sucked back into her mouth.

Alex didn't need to look at Stiles to know that he was smiling.

"So, you'll like me when I'm older?" He stated, "I shouldn't be surprised that a badass hunter is into older men, but, my dad?" He joked, walking though the front door of the school after their parents.

The chilly night air hit her bare arms with unrelenting force, but that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the screams that echoed in the parking lot that drew her full attention.

Something was prowling around between the cars, causing people to run back into the school or jump into their cars, revving their engines and reversing recklessly. Without thinking about it, Alex shifted her dress to withdraw her throwing knives and moved to step in front of Stiles, who apparently had the same idea because he'd stepped in front of Alex and held her steadily behind him protectively.

"Stiles," She growled, trying to maneuver around his lanky form.

He wouldn't budge.

Then, a lot of things happened all at once.

Chris Argent shot one very well aimed bullet at the animal. However, the combination of the gunshot, wild animal, and general terror, caused a pedestrian trying to navigate around the madness to accelerate his car directly towards a crowd of screaming people.

Alex saw Allison in that crowd and broke free of Stiles' hold, trying to get to her sister in a futile effort to push her out of the way.

There was a screech followed by a dull thud as the vehicle hit a body. Alex and Stiles pushed their way through the crowd, frantically searching for both Allison and Scott. Alex felt an indescribable sense of relief when she found Allison had been pulled safely out of the way by Scott.

Sheriff Stilinski had not been so lucky.

The older man was sprawled on the pavement, his arm bent at an unnatural angle and Stiles drew a terrified breath before rushing to his fathers side, throwing himself to the ground.

"Dad! Dad!" He yelled desperately. His breathing was heavy and erratic as he demanded that someone call an ambulance.

Alex knelt down beside him, attempting to put a comforting hand on his back, but she was terrible at giving comfort in sensitive situations and the gesture ended up being an awkward pat on the shoulder.

Stiles moved to cradle his father but Alex had seen injuries become worse, tenfold, when the victim was moved even the slightest.

She flexed her hand on his shoulder. "Stiles," She said gently, knowing how to remain calm in a crisis, "Don't move him, okay?"

He looked up at her with a painful desperation in his eyes and eventually shoved his head into the crook between Alex's shoulder and her neck. He wrapped his arms around her middle and she let him. Alex put her hand on the back of his neck, pressing him further into her. It was the best she could do being as apathetic as she was trained to be.

"Stiles," Groaned a voice, rising above all the other chatter and whispers around them, "I'm fine."

Stiles removed himself from Alex's embrace and stared open-mouthed at his father who hissed in pain when he tried to sit up. "Oh Jesus, dad, are you okay?"

"Just got the wind knocked out of me is all." He made another attempted to move and his face contorted in pain, "You know," He said with a hint of a smile, "I think I'll hang out down here for a while."

.

Alex crept down the halls of The Warehouse. This place had always creeped her out. The dimly lit hallways that echoed with every footstep and seemed to constantly hum with thrumming of electricity. It was dark and dank and held some seriously fucked up memories from her childhood. She'd witnessed her first kill here at the ripe old age of thirteen.

The place was deserted, not a person or creature in sight, as was the norm during a night watch. The night watch shift consisted only of sitting in a very uncomfortable chair and trying to pretend that seeing someone (some _thing_ , her father would say) in constant and unbearable pain was a typical Tuesday night.

When she entered the room she exchanged no pleasantries with Will, the man in charge of the voltage coursing through Derek Hale. He simply set the dial, nodded as Alex took her seat and slipped quietly through the door she'd come from.

Derek looked up at her but had the sense to keep his mouth shut until Will had, presumably, left the building.

"'Bout fucking time." He said through clenched teeth. He was naked except for his boxer briefs, usually they were able to keep their pants and left with a little dignity, but Alex suspected that Kate was fulfilling some raunchy kink she had.

Alex rolled her eyes and said, "Not my fault you got captured. I don't work on your schedule."

"So, what?" He growled, "You going to leave me here?"

"That's not what I said." She put a hand on her hip and made a move to turn the dial on the large machine next to her, down to zero. Derek made a feral sound when he felt the relief.

"That's all you needed to do." He sounded tired, on the brink of death. "My strength will come back in a minute."

"No," She said, coming to stand directly in front of him, "I need to know what you've told Kate."

His met her eyes with a terrifying intensity that she supposed was meant to scare her. Derek Hale didn't scare her. Her family scared her.

"Who do you think I am, little girl?"

"Not the brightest bulb in the box, that's for damn sure." She matched his stare with one of her own that she hoped rivalled his, "Why is it, that I'm always the one saving your ass, _little boy_."

He sighed, clearly too tired to continue their usual banter and Alex found herself a little disappointed at that fact. "I didn't tell them anything."

"Good." She said, not letting her face show just how relieved she was to hear that he hadn't cracked at what she knew was unrelenting torture. "Now, considering how many times I've saved you from random, stupid situations you always seem to find yourself in, I think you owe me a favour."


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello All!**

 **Just a quick thank you for reading and commenting and just generally being awesome individuals. I'm honestly having so much fun writing this story, I'm going to have to start rewatching Teen Wolf while I write the next few chapters because *drumroll* NIGHT SCHOOL is going to be the next chapter, and honestly, so much happens in that episode. I want to do it justice!**

 **This chapter is probably one of my favourites so far, because we get to see a different side to Alex. I mean, it doesn't last long and soon enough she's back to her old cynical ways with that emotional wall built higher than ever, but it's a little window into who she might have been in another life.**

 **Thanks again for showing your support for Hunter's Moon.**

 **\- unadulteratedsedation**

Chapter Nine: Codeine

Alex guessed that the stress of the last few days had finally caught up to her. Well, that and the fact that herding a bunch of gross teenagers into a small high school and even smaller classrooms was basically an incubator for germs.

She was currently facing one of her most hated enemies, the common cold.

Alex had woken up a few days after helping Derek escape, feeling like death. Her father had taken one look at her and commenced the usual routine when a hunter got sick. He raided the medicine cabinet in the garage and plied his daughter with a cocktail of prescription pills. The idea behind drugging her up was a smart one; they put her in a codeine coma and let her sleep it off, and sooner rather than later she would be back on the field kicking the asses of their numerous foes.

It explained why she was sprawled out in her bed, under the covers, hallucinating and talking in tongues at the ceiling. That was how her mother found her at 3:15 that afternoon.

"Alex?" She questioned into the dark room. The curtains had been drawn and the lights turned off. Alex tried to sit up and look towards the direction of the voice but her head felt fuzzy and she couldn't be sure where her mother was, or if she was even there.

She tried to form words but couldn't be sure if anything that had just come out of her mouth was coherent.

"She's had a lot of cough syrup." Explained her mother. Was there someone else in the room? "It doesn't agree with her."

There was a shuffling of feet and tentative hand on her forehead.

"Alex, honey." Came her mothers sickly sweet voice and Alex pictured her mother covered in honey and bees with a wicked smile on her face. "Stiles is here. He came to drop off your homework."

Alex cracked open a eye, a lazy smile on her face. Stiles would never be covered in a swarm of bees.

Stiles peered down at her with concern. She was pale and half unconscious with a red nose but he noticed that despite being obviously sick, she looked more well-rested than he'd ever seen her.

"I'm going out." Said her mother, annunciating every word to her drugged up daughter, "Call me on my cell if you need anything." Alex knew that loosely translated to: don't fucking bother me. Victoria slipped out of the room and closed the door quietly.

"How are you feeling, Xena?" Said Stiles, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Alex groaned out a greeting that was muffled by her blankets and the fact that her mouth didn't seem to be working the way she wanted it to. "I brought you soup." He held up a hand that was holding a suspicious looking paper bag.

Her eyes focused in on him and the lazy smile that hadn't left her face all day was making him feel warm. He set the soup down on her bedside table and appraised her. She was bundled up in a large hoodie that was at least two sizes too big, her hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy ponytail that hung over one shoulder, save for a few strands that had slipped out of the tie. Her nose was bright pink and he was pretty sure he'd never seen anything so adorable in his entire life.

"I, uh, also brought you flowers." He managed to stammer out. He laid the flowers he had spent too much time in the grocery store picking out, next to the soup. Alex watched him as he did with glassy eyes.

"Why?" She questioned curiously, tilting her head.

"Because," He paused. He wasn't sure what reaction the gestures would elicit from her, but he wasn't expecting, 'why?'. "I don't know, they're pretty." He shrugged, feeling like he'd been put on the spot and a little moronic. "Leave it to you to be the only person on the planet to not understand why someone would give you flowers."

"Do they have medicinal properties?" She slurred, eyes half closed.

"No," Stiles let the word draw out, "They're just supposed to make you feel better."

She still looked confused, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the bed, right beside her curled up form. He felt like he couldn't breath when she reached up and put a clammy hand on his cheek and mumbled, "They make me feel great. Want to watch my sick movie?"

Stiles peered down at the girl, who looked so much different than he usually saw her. She looked small and frail, like she could melt into her bed sheets with the smallest exhale of breath. Sometimes, he hated how Alex made him feel. It seemed as though he had no control over it. In a town full of supernatural entities, control over anything was hard to come by for someone who didn't have super strength or speed.

Some days, he hated her. She was stubborn and hard headed. Constantly putting herself in danger and working herself too hard, never accepting help from anyone. He couldn't count the number of times he had extended his hand to her, to help her up, out of a car, only for it to go ignored.

There was a metaphor there somewhere, he just didn't want to look too hard for it.

Some days, he admired her. She was strong and agile, seemingly indestructible. She was all daring ideas and facing impossible odds. He often imagined her staring down at the world while it burned, a causal smile on her face.

Some days, he envied her. She was skilled and trained, with an uncompromising sense of inevitable victory. Most days, he was scared to leave his house, scared to leave his dad alone, scared for Scott and their friends. Scared for Alex.

Some days, he wanted her. Sexually, because he wasn't blind, of course. However, it was more deeply rooted than just desire. He wanted her close to him in proximity, he wanted to know where she was, what she was doing, and how she felt. He found himself, more often than not, forcing himself to put down his phone after his thumb had hovered over her name on his phone screen for far too long, just because he wanted to ask about her day.

Everyday, he choked down his debilitating crush on her.

She had made it clear that she was interested in nothing more than finding the Alpha and protecting her family. It was the only reason she had even given him the time of day in the first place. If Scott had never been bitten in the woods that fateful night, Stiles would have fallen prey to another stupid infatuation that involved nothing more than longing stares and unanswered greetings on the school steps.

He remembered how he had pinned for Lydia since the third grade, she had been so untouchable. Stiles couldn't pin point an exact moment when his love for her had faded, but he was deductive enough to know that it probably started the minute he saw Alex walk into their homeroom class, hands on her hip and staring rebelliously at anyone who dared make eye contact. The difference between Alex and Lydia (though, there were many) was that, unlike Lydia, Alex had actually let him into her world. Maybe he'd forced his way in, but the point was moot. He was there. Alex was not untouchable, they'd talked about their lives, their trauma's, their fears. He'd comforted her and she'd saved him.

He was in her world now, and there was no way in hell he was going to give that up now that he'd seen just how brightly she shone in his.

So, he sat down on her bed, a fluid smile on his face that felt like it belonged there when she was near, and said, "Your sick movie is Pride and Prejudice?"

She had turned on the television and the menu lit up the screen, a classical song playing softly and then building to an impressive crescendo. His teasing remark was lost in a soft breath of air that left his lungs when she curled closer into his side, pressing as much of herself into him and she could manage.

"Shhhhh," She whispered into the fabric of his shirt, "Don't tell anyone."

"I won't." He promised, carding his hands absentmindedly through her hair as the movie began to play.

.

Alex woke up with approximately zero recollection of the past two days. She also woke up to Allison gently poking her face.

"Wow," Her sister smiled teasingly, but with a relieved warmth, "Both eyes open, clear and focused. You're actually looking _at_ me."

"Was I that bad?" Alex asked her voice gravelly with sleep. She sat up in her bed, pushing the covers down to her waist and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this rested.

"You were high as a kite for two days." Allison laughed, tucking her long curly hair behind her ear. She was dressed and ready for school, looking particularly put together. "Mom and dad weren't kidding when they said that you react badly to cold medicine."

"I remember fuck all." Alex said, reaching a hand to her hair. It was matted to the side of her face and she tried not to think about what she must look like.

"I'm not surprised," Allison got up off the bed and began searching through Alex's closet, "You were a total zombie." Allison threw a few articles of clothing on the bed: a floral long sleeved dress, and a light denim cropped jacket. "You're coming to school today."

Alex agreed wordlessly by standing from the bed and collecting the clothes Allison had picked out. She began to walk towards her bathroom to shower when she noticed a vase full of light pink and white flowers on her bedside table.

"Did you get me flowers?" Alex asked curiously, stopping to inspect them. They were beautiful.

"No." Allison sang and Alex could hear the smile in her voice, "You don't remember Stiles coming by to see you?"

"Obviously not." Alex growled out, feeling embarrassment bubbling in the forefront of her mind, the insinuation was clear. Stiles had seen her while she was in a medically induced haze? He had brought her flowers? "How did he even know I was sick?"

Stiles' little _thing_ for her was starting to get out of hand. She didn't have time to fend off some little dweebs hormones, she had a town to save.

"I asked him the same thing after I got home." Allison sat down on her bed. "I came up to check on you after school." Allison face looked positively evil when she began speaking again, "I found you asleep on him, in your bed, halfway through Pride and Prejudice."

Allison was fully laughing at Alex's horrified face. She ran a hand through her knotted blonde hair, wincing when she ripped relentlessly through a tangle. She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, "I told him about my sick movie?"

Allison nodded, "You told him about your sick movie."

Alex felt embarrassment and nausea claw at her chest, it might not have seemed like a big deal but Alex wanted to kill something. Why had he come here? Why had whoever had been home let him in? Why had anyone let her have access to that stupid DVD?

"Oh, come on." Allison prodded, "It's cute. You two are cute."

"Shut up, Allison." Alex spat out, anger lacing every word, but Allison didn't notice.

"Apparently," She continued, oblivious to Alex's fists clenching painfully at her sides, "He harassed the front office when you weren't in homeroom."

"So much for confidentiality." Alex said bitterly. She began to plan an elaborate scheme to throttle whatever stupid mouth breather was working in the office that day.

"Oh," Allison laughed, "They didn't tell him anything. He left the office, then dialled Mrs. Hendrix's number and pretended to be from a towing company."

 _Mrs. Hendrix. RIP, bitch._

"When she ran out of the office, he snuck back in and hacked into her computer. He looked you up, and I guess there was like, a reason code or something. It said you were out sick and then he showed up here with soup and flowers." She sighed, "I nearly died when Scott told me. The boy has it bad, Alex."

"I can't listen to this." Alex stated, effectively ending the skin crawling conversation and slamming the door loudly to her bathroom.

.

Alex felt much better after washing off two days of sickness and the conversation she had been subject to early that morning with Allison. She changed into the dress her sister had picked out for her and was finally beginning to feel like an actual person again. She was pleased when she only had to use a quarter of of her usual amount of concealer.

She was sifting through her locker before class thinking idly about what supernatural shit she'd missed while she was down and out. She closed the locker door and nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Stiles' smiling face lurking behind it.

"You need a fucking bell." She breathed out. Normally, it would have taken a lot more than that to startle her, and she wondered briefly if she functioned more efficiently with no sleep.

"I brought you the notes you missed." He had an easy smile on his face as he extended a rather abused looking notebook to her. Pages were falling out and the entire thing was bent in a way it surely hadn't been when he'd purchased it. It was labelled, 'School Shit.'

"I can use Allison's." She said cooly, realizing that she sounded dismissive when his face fell slightly. "You hacked into the school mainframe?" She questioned, changing the subject while she leaned causally on her locker.

He had the sense to look slightly embarrassed, but he leaned beside her and shrugged, "Mrs. Hendrix's password was her dogs name." He explained, "There was a picture of him on her desk," Then he finished with a pleased smirk, "With his hame written in foam letters on the frame."

Alex let a laugh escape her despite her efforts to remain icy towards the boy.

"It was too easy." He smiled at her and she felt the sincere words of thanks on her lips, but she refused to let them past. "Shall I walk you to class?"

"I'll walk you." She corrected.

"Figures." He snorted, pulling himself of the locker and falling into step with her.

They walked through the hall, taking the familiar route to the their homeroom class when he smiled and side eyed her, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"So, Pride and Prejudice, huh?" The statement was followed by a loud groan of pain after she had shoved him into the nearest bank of lockers.

.

"Come on Alex!" Chris demanded sternly as she tried to dodge another blow, failing miserably before his fist collided with her ribs.

She tried to catch her breath as a mangled groan of pain burst from her mouth. She stumbled as she tried to right herself before another one came.

"Where is your head?" He yelled, coming at her again, aiming a round house kick at her temple. She deflected by crouching low and his leg sailed over her head, missing her by mere inches. She did a sweeping kick, directed towards his ankles and he fell backwards with a laugh, "There she is."

He picked himself up off of the ground, leaping into a defensive position. She hadn't realized that he'd backed her up into a fallen log and he took the opportunity to crowd her so she lost her balance and crashed to the ground. She barely had time to register that she was on her back before her fathers large combat boot was pressing dangerously hard on her windpipe.

"Always take inventory of your surroundings." He scowled, "What is wrong with you? You know this stuff and you're better than this." He stepped off of her and she gasped with the pain as oxygen filled her lungs again.

Alex laid on the ground, dejected and defeated. They'd been at this for hours, sparring since dawn and all she had accomplished was getting her ass kicked over and over. She had bruises forming on every inch of her skin, a busted lip and a boot imprint on her clavicle.

She had tried to reason with herself that had they been training with knives or guns, maybe she could have held her own. She could put up a good fight using hand to hand combat, but her knives were an extension of herself at this point. It didn't help that after two days of being bed ridden, her muscles felt like they had atrophied.

Despite that, she doubted she could have put up a decent fight anyway, her head just wasn't in it. Nothing felt natural, her moves felt forced and mechanical as opposed to fluid and flowing, this only made her frustrated.

"Get up." Her father demanded and she did as she was told, pulling herself up from the ground, every bone in her body protesting. "You can run home." He stated, tolling her knife holsters at her feet. They hit the dead leaves that had fallen onto The Preserve ground and she winced as she bent over to pick them up, feeling humiliated.

Ever since Derek Hales 'escape' from The Warehouse, her entire family had been on edge, her father the most. He seemed to be taking out his frustrations on her when they trained, delivering blows with too much force and looking at her with too much disdain. If she didn't know any better, she'd have presumed that he knew she had had something to do with it.

Alex buckled her hostlers to her legs, arms and chest, cursing as she did. Her father was gone, probably basking in the warmth of the SUV. She frowned recalling the days training, she had totally sucked. Her father was right, what the hell was the matter with her?

Eventually, she took off at a standard pace, it was about five miles back to her house and she estimated that the jog would take her a little under an hour. The leaves crunched underneath her feet and she could hear her own breathing. Alex hated running with headphones, it was too quiet and gave her thoughts more freedom to rumble around in her head, garnering more of her attention. She preferred blasting some serious EDM.

The sun was starting to set and she ran through the rapidly darkening forest, proving to be more challenging than usual. When she emerged on to the main road she was relieved to have made it out unscathed, well relatively, as she was pretty sure her father had dislocated one of her ribs.

She was passing the entrance to the school when she heard it. A sad whining emanating from what sounded like the school intercom.

"The hell?" She muttered to herself, picking up her speed and veering towards the school. She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard something far more menacing this time.

A howl.

It shook the ground she stood on and a tremor touched her spine sending warning signals to her brain. Warning signals that told her to run home as fast as she could, so naturally she did start running.

Right towards the school.

"What a fucking moron." Alex said out loud into the dark parking lot she was sprinting through. She came to a stop when she saw Stiles' Jeep and fought back the urge to scream, what the hell was he doing here? The kid had a death wish. As she approached the Jeep she noticed that it looked like someone had tore apart the hood, and upon closer inspection she noticed the wet red stain on the pavement, dripping from the backseat.

Blood.

She surveyed the area which was eerily quiet and tried not to think about how that was almost always a bad sign.

Suddenly, one the back exits burst open, the metallic sound of the heavy door echoing through the parking lots expanse. Stiles stumbled out with his wide brown eyes staring directly at her and panic etched into every line on his face.

"Alex!" He screamed, a sound that terrified her, "RUN!"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Night School

Alex didn't have to look behind her to know what had spooked Stiles and she began sprinting towards him, somehow being able to tap into whatever remaining strength that she hadn't been sure she'd had left.

Her instincts were telling her that the beast behind her was gaining and she slid to her knees just in time as the alpha lunged, missing her by mere inches. She watched with wide eyes as the werewolf sailed over her and skid to a stop, landing in front of her. The gravel from the pavement had made quick work of her leggings and tore at the skin on her knees. She had landed in a heap only inches from the steps where Stiles was urging her to move her ass.

She'd barely found her centre of gravity before she felt hot breath sniffing at her legs. She barely had the courage to look down at it.

It's long cylindrical snout sniffed her her bloody legs and bared it's teeth. They were long and yellow canines that nearly matched her arm in size. They were razor sharp and the visual spurred her into action. She put all of her power into one well aimed kick to the beasts head and when she jumped up from under the shapeshifter she threw one of her knives haphazardly behind her, hoping to buy herself some time.

Stiles grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her roughly through the open door and into the building. He used his entire body to slam the door shut without so much as a glance behind him.

"Definitely thought you were a goner." He panted, wrapping his arms around her, to which she angrily shoved him away.

"What the hell are you two doing her?" She glared, hoping that it covered her wince of pain. She felt like one giant wound. "You," she directed her heated gaze at Scott, "Are supposed to be picking up Allison, not traipsing around the school. You may as well have paged the Alpha!"

"Who uses a pager anymore?" Scott muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Well, obviously," Stiles drawled, sarcasm lacing his words, "We ran into some issues."

"Can it, Stilinski." She snarled. "You two are absolutely, without a doubt, the dumbest-"

"What happened to your face?" Stiles interrupted, invading her personal space to get a closer look at her busted lip and bruised jaw.

"Training session." She shrugged, her anger melting away.

Scott and Stiles shared a horrified look that was lost on Alex.

Suddenly, from above them a set of great thumping footsteps were heard booming overhead and all three looked up in terror.

"Looks like we have company." Stiles whispered, eyes wide with fear.

"Go, go, go!" Shouted Scott, ushering Alex and Stiles down one of the corridors. Stiles ran ahead trying desperately to open several doors along the way, all of which were locked.

He must have finally got one open because he shouted something from the next corridor, however Alex had become preoccupied with something strange in the hallway.

A smell.

It was as if the chaos and terror of the situation they were in, completely melted away and she held no sense of urgency to escape the immediate threat.

She slowed to a walk.

Scott and Stiles had long disappeared as she gazed around the empty school. She was blindly following the smell that seemed to call to every nerve in her body. It was metallic and coppery which Alex knew not to be a traditionally nice smell, but she hardly cared because it was intoxicating.

Her slow, purposeful footsteps echoed in the empty halls and curiously enough she found herself standing in front of the double doors leading to the library.

The smell was emanating from this room, she knew, and she wasted no time throwing open the doors and surveying the room with wild eyes. The library was dark and dim, she could just barely make out the aisles of books and the large front desk. She walked further into the library only noticing just then the chill that had settled over the room.

She walked down every aisle, all lined with books of different shapes and sizes and when she came to the last row of books in a dark corner of the library she knew she was getting close.

In the far recesses of her mind she wondered why this section didn't seem familiar. Why the rows of dusty old books she had never seen before were here now. When were they added and what the hell kind of language was that?

She ran a finger across the spine of each book and she continued her steady, deliberate steps and when she received a shock from one of the books, she yanked her finger back with a surprised jolt. She peered down and glared at the text as though it had personally offended her.

The title was in another language, one she was not familiar with, but she did recognize the symbol on it. It was a Wiccan symbol, one she didn't remember ever seeing but somehow she knew it was a symbol that meant life. Or what Wiccan's equated to life.

Translated to English, it mean something more sinister.

Blood.

She hesitated before touching the book again, not wanting another shock, but unable to curb her curiosity. She placed a tentative finger on the spine for the second time and she felt nothing.

Perhaps she'd imagined it.

Alex removed the book from it's place on the shelf and with it, displaced a cloud of dust. She held it in her hands and flipped it over, examining every inch of it's surface. It felt heavy in her hands, too heavy for just a book. She ran a finger over the worn cover, tracing the strange title.

 _eaque missio sanguinis_

She opened the book, flipping to a random page and scanning through the strange Wiccan symbols. She hissed when the old paper sliced her finger and blood from the paper cut gathered to a small droplet on the tip of her finger. She watched in fascination as it dripped onto the worn pages of the old book.

She cursed, putting her finger in her mouth and wiping the small drop of blood from the page. She flipped to the next one and studied the other side hoping that her blood hadn't ghosted onto the next page, but was surprised to find that, in the exact same spot was a fresh drop of blood.

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she wiped it off a second time.

She flipped the page and found another fresh spot of blood.

There was something wrong here. A strange tingle in the back of her mind told her that something was off about this place, about this strange section in the library, but the longer she stared at her blood on the book the more the feeling seemed to ebb away. She flipped through more pages and found that the drops of blood continued to appear the further she delved into the book.

Nearly one hundred pages in, she turned the page and noticed that the drop of blood was missing. She ran her thumb over the place where the blood should have appeared and scanned the words,

 _congregem cum execratione maledicta congessit_

 _vas autim praevaricator_

 _item concilium transferre cum execratione maledicta congessit_

A chill ran down Alex's spine as she mouthed the words. She felt a sudden urge to drop the book and leave. Whatever had made her forget her fears about this place earlier was no longer influencing her, so she dropped the book and jogged to the end of the aisle, emerging from the small confined space and into the larger expanse of the library. She breathed a sigh of relief when nothing seemed strange or out of place to her.

The familiar tables lined with computers and the chairs tucked meticulously underneath them sat in front of a large window that looked out onto the lacrosse field.

She stared out the window for a moment, it was dark outside but something was wrong with the landscape. She squinted her eyes and moved forward a couple of steps.

That wasn't the lacrosse field.

"What the fuck?" She whispered.

Outside the large window visible only in the glow of the moonlight, were large rolling hills covered in grass, for miles. The hills led to cliffside where the land met with the sea and the waves were crashing against the side of the steep drop.

She backed away from the window, tripping over the leg of the chair because she was unable to tear her eyes away from the scene before her. She landed with a dull thud against the library floor, mouth still agape

She snapped it shut when an eery realization made her hair stand on end.

The waves that hit the cliffside weren't moving, the clouds in the night sky remained stationary as though she were peering at a simple picture.

Her breath started coming in short gasps as she tried to reason with herself.

It was too quiet in here.

The longer she stared out the window, the more she began to realize that she wasn't supposed to be here. She stood up and walked backward towards the double doors that lead back into the hallways, and hopefully back into reality.

The moment the doors to the library closed and she was standing in the hallway, two doors down from her English class, the fog lifted from her brain. She felt like she had been in a dream.

Why had she gone in there?

Screams from down the hallway sounded and she snapped her head in the direction of the main foyer. It reminded her of what she was doing here in the first place.

The alpha.

She took off at a sprint and when she turned the corner she stopped dead in her tracks. Scott and Stiles were looking sweaty and out of breath as they stared at a new trio of people; Lydia, Jackson, and Allison.

Allison immediately ran to her sister, stopping to stand in front of her and regarding her with careful eyes.

"Alex? Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Alex responded, trying to not look as dazed and confused as she felt. She knew her eyes looked unfocused as her brain was still trying to process what had just happened to her. She didn't have time for that now, she needed to know exactly what in the hell her sister was doing here. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well," She started, her eyes losing some of the concern, "I thought Scott texted me . . ." She trailed off and her eyes narrowed, "What happened to your face?"

Alex knew she was referring to her busted lip and bruised jaw.

 _Thanks, Dad._

"You're white as a sheet, Alex. What the heck is going on here?" She put a comforting hand on her sister shoulder.

"I fell in the woods." She lied, gesturing to her running gear like it should have been obvious.

"Why do you have those knives?" Allison continued to question her sister while the others looked on in silence. "I haven't seen you with those since we took archery."

"Alright, Twenty Questions," Alex rolled her eyes hoping to divert her attention from every fact that wouldn't add up, "Let's just get out of here, okay?"

"Yeah," Agreed Stiles, vigorously nodding his head, "This place creeps me out enough during the day."

Alex threw him an appreciative glance and turned on her heel, fully intending to lead the way out of this hell hole, when the ceiling above their heads began to shake and groan with the weight of something heavy, something that was moving.

"What was that?" Lydia questioned, her voice small and shaky. She moved to stand closer to Jackson who in turn, eyed Lydia with passive annoyance.

Scott and Stiles shared a look before yelling, simultaneously, "RUN!"

The six found themselves running towards a nearby classroom, throwing themselves through the door with absolutely zero grace.

They followed Scott's instructions and began piling furniture and chairs in front of the door.

Alex knew better. If the alpha wanted in, a plastic chair barricade wasn't going to stop it. She pulled herself into a sitting position on top of one of the desks and pulled out a cigarette from the crumpled package she'd shoved in her waistband this morning. She leaned casually over the desk she was perched on and fiddled with a bunsen burner until it flickered to life. She leaned forward with the smoke between her lips and inhaled, effectively lighting the tip.

Holy hell, had she needed this.

When she straightened back out she found herself being started at by her peers. She shrugged.

"Since when do you smoke?" Allison demanded, her voice edging on hysteria. Apparently Alex's bad habits were easier to focus on then the predator prowling the halls.

"Only when she's stressed." Stiles rushed out, "I'm about ready to bum one, because not that THAT," He gestured to the blocked door, "wasn't a truly inspired idea, but did you not notice that fifty foot wall of windows?"

They all began to argue, talking over one another and demanding answers but Alex had zoned out at the mention of the window.

She stared out into the dark parking lot and her eyes glazed over as the image from the library flickered in and out of her peripheral vision.

The peaceful scene of waves breaking on a grand cliff had, in fact, not evoked feelings of peace. Her mind flitted back to the book she'd held in her hands. It had felt so real - it must have been. Even the paper cut she had received still stung, but when she brought her hand to her face to examine it, there was no mark.

"Alex!" Lydia's frantic voice ripped her from her thoughts and she lowered her hands after taking a long shaky drag from her smoke.

"What?" She tried to play off her unease by sounding bored and irritated.

"I said, did you see Derek Hale?" She had a hand on her hip and her eyes trained on Alex. Looks like she wasn't the only one trying to play off her unease.

Alex switched her gaze to Scott, hoping to translate silently that she thought he was a fucking moron. Blaming this on Derek, which she was assuming he had done, was a very bad idea.

"No." She answered honestly.

Scott raised his eyebrows at her in a silent question.

She knew enough about the supernatural to avoid doing something as dumb as assuming he was dead. The supernatural rarely ever stayed six feet under, even when you dug the grave and buried them yourself.

At some point in the confusion, Allison had come to stand by her sister and take her hand, a tell tale sign that the older sibling was scared. Alex squeezed her hand trying to reassure her.

"The janitor is dead." She whispered, "Derek Hale killed the janitor. Now he wants to kill us."

The others began to argue about calling the cops and Lydia and Jackson were pressuring Stiles to call his father. Not even Scott came to his rescue.

Stiles looked wrecked, he knew, just like Alex and Scott, that it wasn't a serial killer out there beyond the door, it was a freaking werewolf. A werewolf that just so happened to be the size of a small elephant and had developed a taste for human flesh.

Lydia pulled out her own phone, determined to call the Sheriff herself, while Stiles looked on helplessly.

Noah Stilinski would surely be killed as easily as the poor janitor had been if he so much as stepped one foot in the high school. Jackson, Lydia and Allison were all important players in the alpha's game to get to Scott, which is why they hadn't been killed yet. The Sheriff wasn't even on the board.

"Put the phone down, Red." Alex demanded, looking menacing as she twirled a knife between her fingers in that dangerously impressive way she liked to when asserting herself.

Lydia visibly gulped, lowering her phone limply to her side. "We need to call the police!" She argued, but made no move to use her phone again.

"Alex . . ." Allison said in a low voice only Alex could hear. She obviously disapproved of her of her choice, or tactic. Probably both.

Stiles regarded the blonde with complete adoration, grateful for the show of dominance that had surely saved his father from a fate worse than death. She nodded imperceptibly in understanding.

She returned her attention to the goings on in the classroom just as Scott finished his grand, self-sacrificing declaration.

 _Idiot._

 _._

Out of all of the people trapped in that classroom, Alex and Scott were the only ones with a chance of surviving a face off against the alpha. That fact had spurred Alex's decision to make her own stupid self-sacrificing declaration.

She wasn't going to let the newborn werewolf go out there alone, and it was mostly because she couldn't take being locked in that room anymore. She would rather face down an alpha than breathe the same air as Jackson Whittmore.

"We should split up." Scott suggested at a whisper while they walked with light feet past the cafeteria. "We'll cover more ground that way. Do you have your phone?"

"Nope." She popped the 'p'. "Because that would make things easy."

She smirked a little when she saw the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a morbid smile.

"Then, we'll meet back at the classroom in half an hour, okay?"

"What if neither of us have found the keys?"

"Then we wait it out." He said authoritatively. "Together."

That seemed reasonable enough to Alex, daylight would be breaking soon anyway and she highly doubted that the alpha would continue it's wicked game during homeroom. The two parted ways with knowing glances and silent wishes of good luck.

This night just kept getting weirder and weirder and Alex tried to keep her mind focused on the task at hand, but thoughts of the library kept sneaking to the forefront of her brain. She briefly entertained the notion that she may have been asleep, as it was no secret that she rarely slept a full night and when she did, it was fitful. Perhaps the years of sleep deprivation were finally catching up to her. Or she was going insane. Either way, she _had_ felt like she was waking from a dream when she exited the library.

She shook her head.

She hadn't noticed that her feet had carried her to the indoor pool just off of the main gymnasium. She opened the door as quietly as possible and jumped when it closed behind her, the sound echoing in the room and bouncing off of the water. The light reflecting from the pool cast an eery glow over the room and intricate patterns on the ceiling that looked more like a style choice than a trick of the light.

She rolled her eyes at herself when she stared at the water a couple of seconds longer than normal just to make sure that it was moving.

Her eyes moved over the empty bleachers and pool, wondering why her subconscious had taken her here. She avoided physical activity at school, it was the one place she didn't have to think about training. She'd only ever been here once.

She turned towards the exit, finding nothing of interest in the empty room, but stopped when something under the water, close to the pools edge, glinted at her. She walked to the edge and crouched down lower trying to get a better look.

Keys!

She peered carefully at the bottom of the pool, finding it difficult to gauge how deep the water was from this vantage point, so she stuck her hand into the water up to her elbow, grasping for them to no avail.

They keys were just out of reach, so she lowered herself down to the ground, laying on the cold tiled floor and reached her arm as far as she could, her cheek nearly touching the surface of the warm water as she grasped at nothing.

 _At least it's warm,_ she thought, _I wouldn't mind having to dive into that._

She pulled her arm out with a frustrated sigh realizing that her efforts were futile. She would have to go in and get them. She stood up and shook off her drenched arm, preparing to remove her clothing. She heard the water from her arm splash on the ground, echoing like raindrops. She looked down at the red droplets that saturated the ground beneath her feet.

She did a double take.

It looked like blood.

She peered down at her wet arm and let out a frightened whimper at what she saw. Her bare arm was coated in warm, red blood where there should have been pool water.

"Just a dream." She said, slamming her eyes shut, "Just a dream."

She cautiously opened her eyes, hoping that it had been a trick of the light, or some lingering dregs of her waking dream from the library. When she did, she began to scream in absolute horror. The entire swimming pool was filled to the brim with blood, undulating and lapping at her feet.

Still screaming, she tried to back away from the nightmarish looking scene, but the wet floor beneath her feet made her lose purchase on the tiled floor sending her crashing into the pool.

She hit the surface hard, sinking to it's depths, the weight and thickness pressing against her skin. She fought against the pressure that pulled her down further, kicking her legs and flailing her arms. The viscous liquid slowed her movements and she began to panic as she sank further down. Blood filled her nose and unable to hold her breath it filled her mouth. She painfully inhaled it into her lungs and soon after was enveloped by darkness.

As her eyes closed, she dreamt of bathing in blood.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Alex

 _"Alex!"_

 _Blood stained the side of the white ceramic bathtub she was in._

 _"Alex!"_

 _It coated her skin as she scooped up a handful of it and poured it over her head, wiping away the excess that had gotten in her eyes._

 _"Alex!"_

 _A rubber duck floated by in the viscous liquid._

 _It turned it's head and squeaked at her._

 _"Alex!"_

 **Alex**

It had been two days wince we'd been trapped in Beacon Hills High and just as many since I'd had a decent nights sleep.

I was going insane. I was sure of it.

I'd woken up the night after the school incident with my legs covered in scratches. I must have inflicted them on myself because they were claw marks and my nail beds had been caked with blood. So had my sheets. I had to wash them twice to get out the stains.

The second night I'd dreamt of blood. It seemed to be a recurring theme for me lately. I'd woken up screaming bloody murder.

That was why Allison had insisted on sleeping with me last night, and also why I had a boney elbow wedged in between my third and fourth rib. I groaned loudly with the intention of waking her up. If I wasn't sleeping, neither was she. Besides, the sun was up anyway and that made me feel less guilty.

The events at the school had taken it's toll on everyone who had been there, not just me. Allison seemed to be taking it especially hard. She'd broken up with Scott because she knew he was lying about something. Allison may have been kept in the dark for years by our family _about_ our family - but she was still an Argent. We were perceptive little fuckers.

I think she knows I've been lying, too. Sometimes I catch her looking at me with skepticism in her dark brown eyes. It scares me because I know she's going to put the pieces together soon. I would be stupid to underestimate her. It's only a matter of time.

Allison stirred beside me and stretched out, like a cat.

"G'morning." She mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. I was jealous. "How'd you sleep?"

"Ask your elbow." I said hatefully.

"Sorry." She smiled sheepishly, fully opening her eyes. When she did, they widened, "Oh, Alex . . ."

"What?" I questioned the motherly tone she was taking with me and I felt a little self conscious.

"You're bleeding." She said, standing from the bed to get me a tissue and she sighed. "Again."

I looked down at my body, half obscured by the sheets on my bed. Allison was right, I'd scratched at my legs again, reopening the steadily healing wounds.

At least there wasn't as much blood on the sheets this time.

We began methodically stripping my bed in silence. Allison had questioned me about what had happened to me at the school that night, she was getting worried about how it was affecting me, but I had curbed every attempt she made to get me to talk about it. It seemed like she was accepting that I wanted to keep it private. But I saw the looks of concern she'd been giving me in between those looks of skepticism.

We were in the process of shoving everything in the hamper when our dad walked in, without warning, as per usual. He looked down at what we were doing and then back up at us with a raised eyebrow.

"Allison wet the bed." I laughed, hoping it didn't sound as nervous as I though it did. Allison hit me lightly on the arm muttering, 'did not' as I slid my legs out of view by standing behind the bed.

The only thing I had talked to Allison about was not telling my dad about the unconscious self harm I was apparently afflicting on myself and the nightmares that plagued me nearly every waking minute. I felt like it would cause more problems than it would solve if he knew. Allison hadn't liked the idea but she'd agreed nonetheless.

"I think you two should stay home again today." Dad said, ignoring the bed wetting comment and crossing his arms over his chest. "It's Friday, anyway."

"I don't want to, dad." Allison pouted.

I rolled my eyes at her back. She probably just wanted the go to school and see Scott sulking around first hand and get proof that he was as miserable without Allison as Stiles had been reporting.

"I'll stay home." I shrugged.

"How did I know you'd snatch up that offer." My dad smiled in a paternal way that may have been real, but I figured it was just because Allison was here.

"This is me, not looking a gift horse in the mouth." I drawled, busying myself with stripping the pillowcases.

"Well, I just want you two to know that you don't have to go if you don't want." He summed up and turned towards the door, "I'm going to work, oh, and you have a visitor."

He opened the door a little wider to reveal Stiles, who I seriously hoped had not been standing there the whole time. He was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly like he wished he hadn't been, either.

"Uh, hey." He said, making room for my dad to exit my room and down the stairs. He shuffled into the room and I stifled a laugh. Stiles Stilinski, the pinnacle of awkward.

"Come in, Stilinski." I offered, smoothing my hair down, wondering how tragic I looked right now. "You can help me convince Allison to ditch school with me and piss on the sanctity of education."

"Sounds fun." He chuckled, "Though, I did come here to convince you to _come_ to school."

Allison smiled like she'd won a prize.

"Well," I drawled, "How about I invite you to ditch with us?" I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands, sporting a huge fake smile. Stiles' eyes flickered down to my scratched legs and his gaze roamed over them. I'd forgotten to keep them covered. I was surprised when he didn't say anything about the weird wounds and he smiled at me instead.

I looked to Allison with a raised brow, the ball was in her court.

"Fine." She said after a moment, shaking her head like she was babysitting a pair of two year olds. "What are we going to do anyway?"

I patted the expanse of the bed beside me so Stiles would take a seat and I said the first thing that came to mind, "Get drunk."

.

It didn't take much to convince either Allison or Stiles that this was the perfect way to spend a parentally sanctioned ditch day.

I texted our dad telling him that we were going to go hiking to clear our heads and when I didn't receive a response I figured we'd been given the go ahead. The three of us piled into Stiles' Jeep and I threw the duffle bag I'd packed with slutty clothes at Allison. She dodged it and glared at me.

We all had fake I.D's, but Stiles' was pretty shitty and he blushed when told us that it hadn't worked for him yet. So we decided to try our luck in the next town over, with tight little bandage dresses as our security blanket.

When I made that joke as I showcased the dresses on the hangers before I packed them, Stiles had made a weird choking sound and muttered something about it not being a very warm blanket. I packed them anyways.

Stiles was blathering on in the drivers seat about how boring school had been since we'd broken in. I watched Allison's face and muscles stiffen when he mentioned Scott's name.

I feel bad for her.

I feel bad for Scott, too.

Hell, I feel bad for me.

Getting drunk today was very necessary. Except, maybe, for Stiles. He seemed to be coping exceptionally well with almost being murdered. Though, he didn't fall head first into fifteen feet of blood (that actually turned out just to be pool water) trying to go after keys (that actually turned out not to have been there at all).

The nose bleeds and scratching weren't easing my mind either, so I tried to focus on whatever nonsense Stiles was talking about now.

". . . I didn't realize how much time we spend together, Alex." He said and I regarded him with a deep crease in my forehead.

"Where you going with this?"

"Nothing, nowhere." He said defensively putting his hands up, only to return them to the wheel when the car swerved. "It's just," He continued, trying to sound casual, "I just noticed, because you were gone, that I missed you, I guess."

He finished trying to explain himself and looked frustrated, like he hoped that would have sounded better or more eloquent. I smiled despite his awkwardness, because he was being sweet.

"I'll try not to nearly drown next time we break and enter." I snorted, "Purely for your benefit."

"That's all I ask." He smiled, just a little, as the blush faded from his cheeks.

"How can you two joke about this?" Muttered Allison, who had mostly been silent the duration of the car ride. Her mouth was turned down at the corners, she was unhappy and not bothering to hide it. "Nothing about what happened to us is funny."

"I know, Allison." I said, trying to sound sympathetic and feeling like I hadn't pulled it off. I kicked my feet up onto the dashboard as Stiles glared at me from the corner of his eyes. He hated when I did that. "But if we don't laugh, we cry."

She'd done enough of that.

"Scott wanted me to say, 'hello'." Stiles said slowly, treading lightly like I was. We were both peering at her like protective parents in the rear view mirror.

Allison said nothing, looking out the window with a distant look in her eye while she fiddled with a pendant on a chain around her neck. I squinted at it with interest, noticing that it looked familiar. When Allison moved her thumb, I knew why.

"Where did you get that necklace?" I asked trying to keep the glare off of my face and remember that I was trying to tread lightly. I'd never been good at that.

Allison looked startled by my tone, "Aunt Kate gave it to me yesterday morning." She explained simply.

I had turned around in the passengers side to get a better look at the chain and when I sat back in my seat properly I glared hatefully at the road a head of us and remained stubbornly silent for the rest of the trip.

.

"Ow!" Allison grumbled, "Alex, you just kicked me in the spleen."

"I'm surprised it missed your big, fat head." I grumbled back petulantly as I tried to shove the scrap of a dress over my head in the backseat of Stiles' Jeep.

Allison was horizontal, with one foot propped up on the cars roof so she wouldn't tumble onto the dirty floor.

"Woah, Allison!" I proclaimed dramatically, covering my eyes, "That's more of you than I ever needed to see."

Allison's cheeks stained with embarrassment and I smiled wickedly.

"This was your stupid idea." She muttered, finally getting her arm though the strap she'd been at war with the the better part of five minutes. "Is he looking?"

I pulled myself up into an upright position, sighing with the effort I'd just exerted. I peered out of the window at Stiles, who we'd kicked out of the car so we could change, and also so he could keep a lookout.

"No, he's not looking." I confirmed. Stiles was faced away from us, hands shoved casually into his jean pockets and he was tapping his foot against the ground. I smiled warmly when two men walked past the car and he shuffled along the length of the Jeep, shadowing their movements so they couldn't see in the car.

When we exited the Jeep he offered us both a hand, which Allison accepted and I ignored.

"Fakes at the ready, men!" I said with a mock salute and then ruffling my hair, which I'm sure it didn't need after flailing around in the back of Stiles' rolling garbage can.

Allison had already sauntered up to the front door of the bar and I took a few steps forward to follow suit when I noticed Stiles had stopped moving to stare at me. I stopped moving to stare back challengingly.

I couldn't blame him, really. The dresses I'd picked were picked for reason. I flicked my gaze to the bar and then back to him and breezed past, shaking my head.

 _Boys._

Allison's dress was far better suited for the male gaze. It fit her like a glove, though everything fit Allison like that. She was tall and willowy, with long graceful limbs, making her look like a runway model even when she was walking into a seedy dive bar and flashing her fake at the creepy door guy.

If I'd grown up with more time to be envious, I would have been of Allison. Years of training, weights and cardio had affected my body, making it curvy and toned, I didn't look anything like my sister.

I flashed my fake at the bouncer, an old man who looked at my tits longer than he did my fake date of birth.

I followed Allison to a table in the middle of the bar, which was fairly busy for a weekday afternoon, I felt Stiles following closely behind me, he pulled out my chair for me and I scowled at the gesture.

"I wish you weren't wearing that." He muttered in a low voice against the shell of my ear as he pushed my chair in. I turned around to scold him for thinking he had any right to comment on my choice of outfit, but when I met his darkened eyes all that came out was an embarrassing high pitched choking sound. He almost looked dangerous for a moment, with his pupils dilated in what I could only identify as lust.

I faced forward before I did anything else totally mortifying. I avoided eye contact with him when he sat down beside me.

I was thankful when the waitress came to the table, breaking the silence that seemed overwhelming to me, and took our orders.

"This place is . . . nice?" Said Allison, glancing around, her attention getting caught on a rambunctious group of men hollering obnoxiously by the pool tables.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, shaking off the tension I felt towards Stiles, "This place is a pit, but that old man barely looked at our shitty I.D's, so who cares?" I declared, blowing a kiss to our waitress who had hurriedly slammed our drinks down on the table without a word and hurried off to the table of men that were snapping their fat fingers at her.

"What did you order?" Allison asked Stiles, who looked at his apple martini in horror. It was bright green in colour and the glass was garnished with an apple slice and a pink umbrella.

"I didn't think it would look like that." He said miserably, eyeing my pint of beer and accompanying tequila shots.

"Don't even think about it, Comrade." I said, with my eyebrows raised. I childishly slammed back both shots, eyes watering with the burning sensation in the back of my throat and then I licked the entire rim of my pint, just so he wouldn't get any funny ideas.

"Jesus." He said, looking impressed with my dedication.

"Here, Stiles." Allison said, taking pity on the poor boy and switching his martini glass with her gin and tonic with a sweet smile.

"Thank you, _Allison_." He said, all the while staring pointedly at me. I shrugged and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand trying to ignore how the introduction of alcohol to my system was making my stomach feel warm already.

"You are so uncouth." Allison smarted, turning her nose in the air and then promptly downing the stupid looking drink all in one go.

I raised my eyebrow at her.

"Apple doesn't fall far from it's sister." Stiles said with a smirk, he was only halfway through his drink.

"Apple martini doesn't fall far from a moron." I said, cringing at my lame joke. I could have done better.

We ordered another round and another, and sooner or later I'd lost track of how long we'd been here and how many drinks we had consumed. I did know that we were on our third pitcher and the sun had definitely gone down.

A lightness had settled over my body and a lazy smile had become a permanent fixture on my face as we all laughed at something Stiles was saying. A shadow fell over the table and I looked up with a smile thinking it was our glorious waitress who brought drinks and didn't initiate small talk. I was sorely disappointed when it turned out to be another man from that same annoying table near the back. He was peering down at me with a predatory smile that made my fingers itch.

"Not another one." Slurred Allison, shaking her head slowly, eyes never lifting from her newest apple martini.

"Beat it, Mouthbreather." I said, taking my time to look as bored as possible, I even flicked my hand dismissively much to Stiles' amusement.

"How about a drink, sweetheart?" He leaned in closely, and I cringed visibly. His breath smelt really bad and I may have told him as much, because Allison giggled and the man backed away from me a little. He didn't actually leave our table until I started to lackadaisically twirl a butter knife in my hand. Even when inebriated, I had mastered it. I stuck my tongue out juvenilely at the mans retreating back.

That table must have had a running bet going because that was the fifth man, in two hours that had offered to buy either Allison or myself a drink.

"He seemed nice." Stiles said sarcastically, laughing as he continued, "Why not give him a shot?"

I smiled at his ridiculousness and he smiled back. They were matching drunk smiles, ones that pulled the corners of your mouth in different directions and crinkled your nose at the tip.

"She won't give anyone a shot." Hiccoughed Allison, "Freddy Fields totally ruined her."

I smacked my hand against my forehead, "Allison, please spare the boy." I pleaded, "Fuck, spare me!"

"Allison," Said Stiles grinning at both of us, "By all means, continue."

"Freddy Fields broke Alex's heart." She explained into her pint, forming her words very slowly, "in grade five."

I groaned. I hate this story.

"We were nine years old," She started, setting the scene, "We were so excited because in grade five they did this program that, at nine years old, we thought was so cool. They supplied chocolate milk at lunch hour."

"Chocolate milk?" Asked Stiles, leaning forward across the table to listen closely.

"I guess parents paid a set fee at the beginning of the year or something because I remember Alex begging our dad for days before school started-"

"We both did!" I shouted indignantly, widening my eyes slightly at the volume of my own voice.

" _We_ begged dad and he finally gave in. All the cool kids got chocolate milk at lunch and all of us would hangout on this one hill and drink it." She said with a nostalgic smile.

"This is such a lame story." I muttered, picking at my fingernails, but neither of them were listening to me.

"Alex found out that the love of her young life, Freddy Fields couldn't afford to join the milk program, so, she starts giving her milk to him. Everyday, for like a month." She stopped the story to take a sip of her drink and I watched Stiles' face melt with warmth at the sappy story. "I guess she was hoping that he would start sitting with us or something, but he never did."

My head was now firmly resting on the sticky, wooden table in shame.

"One day, after she gave him her milk, she followed him around the side of the school building where, get this," She paused to laugh, "Freddy was giving his chocolate milk to Lucy Glass!"

" _My_ chocolate milk." I corrected angrily, and then under my breath, "Fucking Lucy fucking Glass."

Stiles was laughing as he spluttered out, "That's terrible!"

"Apparently," Allison said, effectively continuing my humiliation, "He'd been doing it for months. So Alex, little nine year old Alex, grabs the chocolate milk from Lucy's hand, throws it on the ground, and stomps on it." Allison was howling with laughter now and Stiles had joined in.

 _Lightweights_ , I thought bitterly.

"When they came back to class, all three of them were covered, head to toe in chocolate milk." She finished regaling Stiles with the story of my lost love just in time for our next round of drinks.

"So," Stiles said, still laughing as he thanked the waitress, "That was your origin story?" He was eyeing me with amusement, but also like I was something precious.

"Yep." Allison said, not realizing that he had been talking to me. "She was never the same after that." In the next breath, "I totally have to pee."

She stood from the table after her declaration and swayed a little on the spot. I made a quick move to stand with the intention of steadying her, but she glared at me, or tried to at least if her eyes would focus, "I'm fine."

I sat back against my chair knowing better than to try and help an unwilling Argent. I watched her make her way slowly through the throngs of people in search of a bathroom. When had it gotten so busy in here? I turned my attention back to the table where Stiles was focused on me with an unreadable expression.

"What?" I asked rudely, upset when my tone only made him smile wider.

"I've never heard that story."

"That's because I never told it to you." I said, like he was dumb.

"Well, why not?" He questioned, ignoring my tone. He still had that amused gleam in his eye and I wanted to kick him. "It humanizes you."

 _Whatever that means._

My plan in that moment was to shake off the humiliation and unease, and focus my attentions on getting as drunk as Allison, but my tongue felt loose and I couldn't have stopped the words even if I'd wanted to.

"Allison doesn't know the full story." I said, lowering my voice and starring down at the beer moving in my glass as I swirled it around.

"Okay." It was a simple urging.

"The day I found that asshat, Freddy Fields with Lucy," I sighed, wishing that the story was as simple as Allison had remembered it, "The night before, I'd witnessed my first kill."

I remembered the night as vividly as if it were yesterday. That kind of thing wasn't something you easily forgot. At nine years old, I had known what I had been born to do. I'd started light physical training and lessons from old dusty books that were much scarier than fairy tales, the year before. One night, Kate had dragged me from my bed, which had been stocked with pink pillows and stuffed bunnies, and she took me to the Warehouse that dad had set up in Pennsylvania, where we were living at the time.

She slaughtered six werewolves that night. They had all cried and pleaded for their lives.

Kate laughed when she cut off their heads.

Stiles didn't find the same amusement with my story that he had with Allison's and I almost felt bad for ruining his happiness about how 'humanized' I'd become with it's telling.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was deciding on which words to use, or like he didn't know what to say at all. What he did say, however, I was not expecting.

"It must be hard not having Allison to talk to about this stuff." He said, moving his hand slowly across the table and reaching one long finger out to touch my knuckle. He looked at me like he thought I would disappear if he were to touch anymore of me. His eyebrows creased as I looked to where our hands were so tentatively connected. "It must be hard knowing you had to go through all of this stuff that she'll never have to. It must be hard not to . . . " He trailed off and I knew it was because he didn't want to finish his sentence.

But I already knew what he was going to say.

"Resent her." I finished, overcome with guilt.

I had never said that out loud.

We shared a look that I'd never shared with anyone before. A look I had seen him share with Scott.

Understanding.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello lovely readers!**

 **I was overwhelmed by the response that the last chapter received. So many favourites and follows - and even some comments!**

 **I had always planned to take this story in a darker direction, but this chapter was a bit of a filler. But one with a twist because it was in Alex's POV.**

 **I did just want to clear up on misconception, though I will be exploring the concept of witches, Alex will not be one.**

 **Please continue to comment and tell me how you think I'm doing, it really does encourage me to update faster!**

 **Thanks for your time,**

 **unadulteratedsedation**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: The Hangover

Stiles cracked his eyes open, rubbing diligently at the sleep crusted over them in his fitful slumber. His eyebrows pulled together in sheer confusion as he stared open mouthed at the unfamiliar stucco ceiling. He sat up suddenly in alarm when he realized he wasn't quite sure where he was. As he heaved himself upwards, his hangover hit him in the head like a sack of bricks soaked in cheap whiskey.

The memories from the night before came flooding back to him slowly, not slow enough to avoid the headache that accompanied it, but fast enough that his confusion was still overwhelming.

The Argent sisters had taken the bed at the tacky motel they'd gotten a ride program to. One where they drove your car to your destination, so he was satisfied in knowing that his trusty Jeep was right outside. He also vaguely remembered all three of them taking turns lying through their teeth about where they were staying the night. The Argents at Lydia's and himself at Scott's.

There was also a foggy memory emerging from the depths of his mind where all three of them had been laughing hard enough to cough - or maybe dry heave in his case, as they made up a bed on the floor for him. Two blankets and one pillow. The sisters shared the bed, at least that's what he remembered.

Stiles couldn't place the time stamp on when they'd finally fallen asleep but he remembered giggling way too much to be respectable and blushing way too hot when Alex had stripped into her underwear for bed.

He groaned in embarrassment, the drunk guilt creeping in as he stared at each individual crumb on the stucco ceiling. When he'd stopped feeling like he was going to heave up everything he'd drank the night previously, he angled his head upwards, surveying the cheap motel room they'd rented to avoid having to pay for a cab home, as well as facing their parents in the state they'd been in.

His tired eyes focused on a very prominent sight. Alex was awake, alert and out of bed. She was sitting on the floor in front of her bed, her body twisted into some sort of pretzel that made him feel slightly nauseous just glancing at her.

"Are you-" Stiles cringed at the rough and croaky sound of his own voice. "Doing yoga right now?"

Her legs were at a surprisingly accurate ninety degree angle while her deft hands pressed against the floor, effectively hold her weight.

"Shhhh." She hissed. "You're fucking up my zen."

She had said it without even glancing at him and Stiles tried his hardest not to feel slighted. He couldn't help but feel that the bond he'd already felt between them had grown last night and felt stupid that he'd thought she might feel the same. She was acting as cold as the day they'd first met.

Alex was clad in a standard black pair of leggings which he assumed she had been wearing at some point before his memory started going fuzzy. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a thick braid that fell over her shoulder.

"You can't be human." He decided. "I can literally taste my hangover." He rubbed at his face again as she lowered her legs and maneuvered herself into a mind bending back bend.

"Last night was child's play, Stilinski." She explained, letting out a deep breath that Stiles' eyes tracked. "Have you checked your phone yet, Champ?"

Stiles paled remembering how pissed he and Alex had been on Parent/Teacher night when Scott and Allison had gone AWOL. Last night had seemed like a great idea under the guise of alcohol and the idea of spending more time with Alex - but in the cold sobering light of the next day, he realized how unbelievably irresponsible they'd been and he suddenly sympathized with Scott's unreasonable need to be around Allison.

Stiles crawled around frantically on the ground, slithering out of his makeshift bed hissing cusses about the location of his phone. His hands were flailing over every available surface and tossing things aside that were in his way. In his turmoil he didn't realize that he'd crawled towards Alex's upside down face - and she was smirking at him.

His breath hitched as she kicked her legs over her head and his, landed gracefully on the other side of both of them and reached down to grab that pair of pants he didn't remember he'd discarded the night previous. Her hand dug into the left pocket and revealed his phone. She dangled it in front of his stunned face and sighed.

"Scott and Broody Brows had an interesting run-in with Peter Hale last night." She admitted casually as she started packing Allison's things into her purse. "Also known as - drumroll please, the Alpha."

"Peter Hale?" Stiles' brain was slower than usual this morning. "Melty Face?"

"Bingo." Alex replied, stuffing Allison's wallet and phone unceremoniously into her black leather bag. She was still sound asleep and Alex wanted to keep it that way until she'd updated Stiles on the breaking news she'd gotten while her two companions were still asleep. She'd been afraid to sleep since she started scratching at herself - the last thing she needed was Stiles' prying eyes finding her in a motel bed covered in blood and wounds. Alex watched Allison sleeping, the family pendant softly jumping with Allison's slow breaths and felt jealous for more than one reason. Alex fought back a feeling of unease that curled in her stomach at the sight. "Apparently," She continued, "He went full on psycho killer at the hospital last night - no one was hurt, but Derek switched sides."

"That little traitor." Stiles was too hungover to formulate a proper response, but that didn't lessen how pissed he was.

"Family vengeance." Alex reasoned. "Peter is going after everyone involved in the Hale fire. Derek can't help but see reason in that."

"We have to get back to Beacon Hills. Cujo needs to be de-balled." He exclaimed, "Family affair or not, Scott needs me. Allison needs you."

"Way ahead of you - I'm ready, so is Allison." Alex said throwing the last of her sisters belongings in her bag. "Pack your shit and throw me your keys." She held her hand out expectantly.

"My keys?" Stiles questioned. "Why?"

"This is a time sensitive situation, Stilinkski." She shrugged, "You drive like my grandma." A deliberate pause, "And she's dead."

Stiles opened his mouth to protest, and also question whether or not she'd even gotten any sleep, but she'd already disappeared through the door. Two purses and a bag over her shoulder, plus the keys to the Jeep she'd snagged off the nightstand when he wasn't looking.

.

"Why are we going to school?" Allison whined, sprawled out over the whole of Stiles' backseat. "I feel terrible."

"You promised Lydia you'd go to the dance tonight." Alex sniggered, "You promised to meet her for lunch, go shopping after school, plan your makeup - don't blame anyone but yourself."

"I'm too hungover to argue about this with you - wake me up when there's coffee." Allison groaned loudly. "Oh no, I sound exactly like you!"

"Looks good on you, sis." Alex laughed, her hangover virtually nonexistent.

Allison fell back onto the seat and shut her eyes. Her sister wasn't used to underaged drinking the same way that Alex was - it seemed almost natural now. Have drink when you got back from a hunt, talk to her dad about the highs; the impeccable aim, the kill shots, the adrenaline. It all seemed like a lifetime ago now, the high associated with the kill was gone now that she'd meet Stiles and Scott. There was a lot of guilt to make up for it though. Allison wasn't used to the 'after hunt' drinking session and so she was not handling her hangover well. She was asleep within minutes.

Stiles waited until Allison's breathing evened out and chanced and look at Alex, who was hyper focused on the road and speeding a little too much for him to fully relax.

"You're going to the dance?" Stiles asked, eyes fixed on the road ahead just like hers.

"Sort of." Vague as always. "I'll be there, just not in sight."

"Do we have a plan tonight?"

"I think we're just winging it here, Stilinski." She admitted. "All I know is that if Peter wants Scott, the best chance he has to make a move will be tonight. Big crowd. Lots going on. Low light. Intoxication. If I were him, it would be my move."

They said nothing more until they pulled into the school parking lot, coffees in hand and five minutes to spare before the first bell.

Alex jumped out of the Jeep at the same time Stiles and Allison slid out slowly. She smiled widely at both of their gloomy expressions and said with way too much enthusiasm to be genuine, "Alright Kiddies, have a great day!"

"We have homeroom together, Alex." Allison grumbled, cradling her coffee close to her chest like she might lose it if she didn't.

.

When lunch came around Lydia had taken her moment to corner the Argent sisters. She'd been beside herself last night trying to get ahold of them both to finalize plans only to have both of them 'ignore' her phone calls. She was in rare form this morning and Alex could barely pay attention because Scott and Stiles were trying to flag her down behind Lydia and Allison's back from the lunchroom door and they looked ridiculous. Stiles was waving his absurdly long arms at her and Scott was loudly trying to whisper her name into a lunchroom that may as well have a been a theatre with acoustics.

Alex resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Lydia prattled on about plans for the dance.

"I actually can't make it." Alex said, distractedly, still watching Scott and Stiles make complete fools of themselves from her peripherals. "I'll help with your hair and makeup or something." She offered, halfheartedly.

"Absolutely unacceptable." Lydia declared. "Jackson just broke up with me-"

"I have to go." Alex said, already halfway out the door hoping to divert some of the attention Scott and Stiles were attracting, which worked because as soon as they saw her heading their way they took off towards the Boy's Locker Room. It seemed to be their unofficial team office as of late.

She rushed through the doors, careful not to be caught, only for Scott to start yelling as soon as the door closed behind her.

"What the hell you guys?" He yelled, obviously getting angry. "Where have you been?"

"Scott, man, I'm really sorry-" Stiles began to try an explain himself but Scott was not willing to listen. "I mean, we really-"

"I don't care!" Scott roared, an inhuman growl creeping in to his voice. Alex's hairs stood on end. "Peter took my mom on a date and neither of you were here! My mom, Stiles!" Scott's voice was thick with emotion and Stiles and nothing but a hot breath of air to exhale in response.

"Okay, let's think about this," Alex began, attempting to diffuse the tension but also trying to introduce reason into the conversation, she never did do well with emotion. "Peter wants you in his pack, he's stronger with you in it - which means you have leverage."

"He threatened Allison." Scott admitted like a child who'd stolen a cookie from the cookie jar - his voice was strained.

Alex stopped. Terrified.

"He's threatening the pack you're already in. Your mom, Allison-" Alex stopped, her eyes flicking to Stiles without meaning to.

"I can't stop him." Scott said as though he'd just realized the unfortunate circumstance he was in.

"No way, McCall." Alex scolded, rounding on him with a withering glare. "You are not giving up now - that Batman villain wannabe threatened my sister - the stakes are higher that ever and failure in not a fucking option."

Scott punched the nearest locker, the metal bending and succumbing to the force of his fist and jumping off it's hinges. "We're a bunch of sixteen year olds running around with no idea what the hell we're doing!" He cried incredulously.

Alex looked at Scott pointedly.

"Fine! Maybe you know what you're doing." He offered, "But the rest of us? We're dead."

"That's the spirit." Stiles lamented, slumping onto the nearest bench.

"Listen Scott, if you don't get it together, I'll have no choice but to cut you from this mission and recruit my father and our team." Alex explained, "If I do that, I tell him everything. Which means: teen wolf," She pointed to Scott, "Sympathizer," She pointed to Stiles, "and Traitor." She gestured to herself, "We really are dead."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Locker XIII

Neither Scott nor Stiles had anything to say so she finished her comment, "I will protect Allison, with or without your help."

"There was never any question of us not helping." Stiles interjected, "So, what's the plan?"

Alex faltered. She faltered hard.

She had kind of been flying by the seat of her pants since she'd found out her sister was dating a fucking teenaged werewolf. She realized in the moment Stiles had asked her for a plan with searching eyes, that she hadn't had a solid plan in longer than she could remember.

"I usually work with a skilled team of highly trained and heavily armed men - we clearly do not have that luxury in this situation." Just because she didn't have a plan didn't mean that she didn't have a witty comment and Stiles had the audacity to look offended for a second. "We use the element of surprise." She decided in the moment, "Peter won't expect you to be working with a Hunter. We know he'll be at the dance - he'd be stupid not to take that risk, everyone you care about will be there. You lure him to a secluded place - the lacrosse field maybe? Whatever, you do it under the pretence of negotiating joining his pack for the sake of the safety of your friends and family. Hopefully, he wont expect me and if we're lucky, we can manage a kill shot."

"I've been banned from the dance - low grades." Scott lamented, holding his head in his hands.

"Well, who the hell is going to keep an eye on Allison?" Alex demanded, her eyes blazing. There was no way that she was going to let Allison walk into a trap curated by Peter fucking Hale because Scott can't take a moment away from running naked through the woods to crack open a history book.

"I'll be there." Scott promised, looking determined. "I'll get Jackson to take her."

"How the fuck does involving Jackson make this situation any better?" Alex said, sighing with contempt.

"He wants the bite." Scott admitted, unable to make eye contact with Alex. "He's desperate. He'll do just about anything."

Alex seethed. "The fuck, McCall?" She yelled, losing her composure. "This is the kind of shit I need to know? Who the in the ever loving fuck told Jackson?" She shook her head, because this is what she deserved. Asking hormonal sixteen year olds to keep this kind of secret was asking for some serious trouble, but how in the fuck did Jackson end up being the person who was in the know?

"It doesn't matter!" Scott exclaimed, "He takes Allison, he'll keep her safe. I know he will because he gets something out of it."

Alex backed down. She knew the power in greed. Did she trust Jackson? No. But she did trust greed. It won out every time.

"What about Derek?" Stiles asked. "He's joined team Big Bad, he'll be lurking around somewhere - brooding by the punch bowl."

"He's still a fugitive." Alex reasoned, the gears in her head on full power and visions of everything that could possibly go wrong dancing through her head - way less cute than sugar plums. "He won't risk exposure to terrorize a clan of high schoolers."

"I think you're overestimating his intelligence." Stiles said, leaning heavily against a locker. The bell rang, shrill in their ears and too soon to be able to formulate a real plan.

Scott left to avoid being late and probably anymore of Alex's wrath, but Stiles lagged behind, catching her attention with a stare so intense she could feel it on the back of her neck.

"What is it Stiles?" She turned on him with tired eyes.

"What do you need me to do?" His fingers drummed a frantic beat on the straps of his backpack. "You know . . . tonight?"

"Stay home?" She suggested with a shrug, side stepping around him to get to the door.

"Not going to happen and you know it." He said as though it was obvious, and it was. He was still following on her her heels - straight out of the door, and a long stretch down the hallway to her classroom.

"A girl can dream." She snarked, but then she turned on him with a pointed look, "You are undertrained and lack Scott's unique set of qualifications." She eyed her surroundings, keeping her voice low. "There's a huge chance that Scott and I will come of this with a few less limbs - but you, you wouldn't come of it at all."

"I'm either going and you can use my help, or I'm going and you'll get it anyway - you may as well have a say." He argued with a smug face that made her want to punch him.

"You are impossible."

"I'm in good company, then." He smiled and attempted to throw his arm casually around her shoulders while they walked - he quickly rethought the intimate gesture and lowered his arm before she could catch wind of his intentions.

"You'll go to the dance with Lydia." She decided, doing her best to come up with the easiest way he could be useful tonight. "The Alpha is going after Allison because of Scott - there's not a huge leap from Allison to Lydia. It's best to be diligent."

"There's a smaller leap from Allison to you." He retorted. "Besides, Lydia Martin barely knows I exist, there's a snow balls chance in hell she'd agree to go to a dance with me."

"If she wants me to play dress up and go to this dance at all, she will." Alex sat down at her desk while Stiles leaned over on it staring at her defiantly and unblinking.

"You've never seen me wield a baseball bat." He smirked so smugly it was nearly ridiculous enough to make her laugh out loud.

"We've seen you with a lacrosse stick, Stilinski." Coach's voice voice emanated throughout the classroom, the rest of the students were staring at Stiles. "Spare the poor girl."

Stiles straightened himself out completely unaware that he'd had an audience up until that point.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Stilinski?" Coach asked, leaning on his desk - but looking more like he was using it to crouch, ready to pounce - knowing that Stiles was absolutely not in his fifth period Economics class.

"Not really, Coach." Stiles answered with a casual shrug that spurred the giggles from his peers and caused Coach's face to go beet red, a gross pulsating vein throbbing in the middle of his forehead.

"Get the hell out of my classroom!" Coach roared, causing Stiles to jump and drop his bag, spilling his books on the ground. He bent down to pick them up and that's when Coach started to growl at him like a rabid dog. No one could tell if he was kidding.

"Uh, I'll just, uh, get these - " He reached for his bag and runaway books again, but tripped on the leg of a nearby desk, kicking it away from the girl who'd been sitting at it. She watched in shock as it slid into another one. "Never." Stiles finished, bounding quickly out the door before Coach decided to bite like a dog, too.

Alex covered a snigger with a cough when coach fixed her with a glare.

.

"Where did you get that dress?" Lydia questioned with awe and a hint of envy as she looked Alex up and down with an appreciative nod.

"I know right?" Allison agreed, making eye contact with Lydia through the reflection of the mirror she was doing her mascara in. The three of them were puttering around Allison's beautifully decorated room - all colours and bright feelings, getting ready for a high school dance and Alex almost felt normal as she looked around at her friends. "She got it for a dance she never got to go to."

"Well," Lydia eyed them with pursed lips, "That sounds like a story." She ran her hands over the skirt of Alex's dress, admiring the fabric. It was a beautiful dress - truly gorgeous; deep navy, tight fitting, flaring slightly at the bottom where it hit the floor. The long sleeves had made Lydia complain with vigour about the lack of sex appeal, but when Alex turned around, it was completely backless and Lydia hadn't stopped praising her since.

"I got into a disagreement with my motorcycle a few days before that stupid dance." Alex explained with a casual shrug, hoping to pass by the lie without having to delve too deep into it.

"You were in a coma." Allison deadpanned, turning around to glare at her full on instead of through the mirror like she'd done to Lydia.

"No sister drama tonight." Lydia declared with a confident sense of self. "I want to have fun - thought the thought of fun and Stiles friggen Stilinski don't tend to go hand in hand." Lydia rolled her eyes and headed to Allison's ensuite with her garment bag gently folded over her arm as she fled to the bathroom to change.

"Lydia, be nice." Allison chided with a gentle roll her her eyes.

"I just don't get why you wanted me to go with him." Lydia yelled from the bathroom, not because she was angry but because she was intent on being heard. "I gave you a free favour and you might as well have just thrown it away."

"Free favour?" Alex scoffed with a harsh laugh, "I had to pour myself into this dress and let the two of you play 'makeup Malibu Barbie' on my face for the better part of an hour." Alex sat on the bed, careful to avoid hiking up her dress. She had her combat leggings on underneath the long dress and a sports bra shoved into her clutch. "Not free."

The three got ready in silence - not a comfortable one either, Alex had noticed. There was a weird tension between Lydia and Allison - Alex surmised it had something to do with the fact that Allison was going to the dance with Jackson.

According to Allison, they'd talked it out. However, Lydia still seemed a little put out by the whole idea. Alex making her go with Stiles probably hadn't helped the situation either.

There was also a weird vibe between Alex and her sister that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something just seemed off about Allison's behaviour. She'd been acting cold towards her since she'd broken things off with Scott and since their Aunt had exploded back into their lives with no warning.

So, for the majority of their prep time, they sat in uncomfortable silence and Alex wished she was irresponsible enough to drink on nights where she knew she had a mission to complete - at least a little buzz would make the experience a little less awkward.

The silence continued until her dad shouted up the stairs yelling a stupid dad joke about two dead men being at the door. She'd smirked at the joke and actually pictured Stiles' horrified face as her father stared him down on the front porch.

The girls filed out of the bedroom, Allison and Lydia a little later to perfect their eye makeup - but Alex was ready to get the hell out of there.

Her mother actually gasped when she emerged and began her decline down the stairs. It was the most emotion she'd ever seen on her mother's face since her birth - and she didn't even remember that. Jackson even looked a little stunned at her entrance, but had caught himself and plastered his usual casually bored 'I'd like to be anywhere else' face on.

Stiles, however, looked like he'd seen some kind of ghost. He was pale and his hands trembled slightly, yet hard enough that Alex noticed it on her descent down the staircase. Everyone noticed when he dropped the corsage he'd bought for Lydia on the ground. Everyone except him. Kate cleared her throat, gaining his attention and eyeing the ground in front of him.

"Oh," His voice cracked and he cleared his throat with an embarrassed laugh. "I'll just pick that up-" And then he tripped over his own feet, crashing to the ground with a loud grunt.

He stood back up almost as quick as he fell and brushed off the legs of his navy dress pants, and proceeded to pick up the remains of the corsage he'd crushed with his body weight.

"It'll still work." He laughed nervously, and rubbed his neck when a flower fell off and hit the ground with a dull thud. His eyes found Alex's as she stood in front of him. "You look, incredibly beautiful."

The glaring sincerity in his eyes and in his words made it nearly unbearable for Alex to remain eye contact with Stiles, who not only wore his heart on his sleeve but in his eyes as well.

"You clean up pretty well yourself, Stilinski." She smiled at the ground, aware of everyone looking at the two of them and their interaction.

"Listen, I think we all know who you'd rather be going to this dance with," Lydia's voice floated down the foyer, following Allison down the stairs, "But could you at least pretend to be my date?"

It physically pained Stiles to tear his eyes away from Alex and to Lydia who was watching him with an unimpressed lilt to her mouth and a well placed hand on her hip.

"Of course, Lydia - you look great, really pretty." Stiles rushed out. "I got you a . . ." He trailed off, extending the mass of wilted flowers pedals to her, "a corsage."

"Not. A. Chance." She replied, flicking her hair and joining Jackson and Allison by the front door.

Alex and Allison's parents insisted on a ridiculous amount of photos and while Alex looked on at Allison and Lydia posing together for the camera she thought Stiles had been right, Lydia did look really pretty. Her light pink dress and sparkles, sequins, and ruffles - even Allison's dress was a tad on the juvenile side, a tight silver, short and strapless number. Alex's was an elegant gown and a far cry from her companions. She hoped she didn't stand out all night the way she felt she did in this hallway.

When the Argents had taken the last of the pictures on the front porch and gone back inside, Jackson all but ran to his car, dragging Allison behind him. Alex made to follow behind them, mentally preparing herself to squish herself into the back of Jackson's absurdly small Porsche (probably not the only thing that was small), when Lydia wrapped her well manicured hand around Alex's forearm, nails digging into her none too gently.

"No way, sweetheart." Lydia hissed, gesturing to Stiles who had taken off his suit jacket to avoid creasing it while he tried with all his might to unstick the passenger side door. "You're coming with us."

"No need to get upset, retract the claws." Alex said, raising an eyebrow at Lydia who simply smiled, pleased with herself and let go of Alex's arm promptly after she'd given in. "Let's go help your date, that door really sticks."

.

It was that first school dance Alex had ever been to and it wasn't anything to write home about.

It was in the school gymnasium with shitty decorations, shitty food and even shittier people. She was getting stared at a lot and people had stopped asking her to dance when word got around that she'd threatened to casterate a senior that was getting a little pushy with her.

So far, not a great start to the night.

She couldn't say the same for Scott and Stiles - they'd seemed to have gotten swept up in the fairytale of it all. Stiles was dancing with Lydia and both of them seemed to be having a great time.

Scott was finally able to get a dance with Allison after a bit of a commotion with Coach.

Alex was sitting high atop the bleachers that the decorating committee had decided not to collapse. It seemed pretty tacky as a decor choice, but definitely worked in her favour as it was the perfect vantage point. She was on high alert - eyes scanning; the dance floor, dj booth, punch bowl and all those other little nooks and crannies filled with hormonal teens sucking each others faces clean off. She huffed with irritation at her 'team'. Alex was doing three times the work as her two other counterparts attempted to sway to the top forty beats that were playing.

An irritated itch crawled its way up her legs and her torso. She hissed in pain as her nails itched a spot on her legs that she'd tore open a few weeks ago in her sleep. The itch spread hastily over the wounds she seemed to be constantly reopening while she slept. Deaton had given her an herbal salve that had helped a great deal with healing and preventing scars but in this moment the discomfort was intense.

Alex stood, hoping to ease the irritation, stopping completely when she realized something very eery.

The music had stopped playing through the gyms shitty sound system.

She looked up, scared at what she might find - but the room was completely unchanged. Full of teens, dressed in their best and dancing in complete and total silence.

"The fuck?" She whispered, with narrowed eyes. She stepped slowly down the steps of the bleachers and into the crowd of dancing bodies. She spotted Stiles slow dancing with Lydia but before she could even step forward to get to him, her senses were overwhelmed with the same sweet, tantalizing smell that had put her in a trance the night Peter had attacked them at the school.

She breathed in deeply, the voice in her mind screaming at her to 'SNAP OUT OF IT AND RUN!' got quieter with every breath she took. She began to walk towards the gym doors. She knew she had to follow the smell. But, she also had something important she was doing - didn't she? When the gym doors slammed shut behind her and she emerged into the dark hallway, the thump of the music began again.

Her determined feet carried her through the hallways, twisting and winding until every hallway began to look the same. Dark and eerily quiet, lined with lockers. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

The smell crescendoed in one particular hallway, where she found that her feet had stopped moving. The hallway looked no different than the others, except for one small detail that could have been easily missed. The lockers were numbered using roman numerals.

Alex had never seen that before - half the morons who went to this school would have had no idea what roman numerals were - they'd spend all four years looking for their freshman locker assignment.

XIII

The locker she'd stopped in front of, the one the smell was leaking from. She touched it. It was warm, too warm and pulsating like it was breathing.

She withdrew her hand, startled.

She touched the one beside it - cool and unmoving.

She hesitantly reached out to grasp the lock in her hand, trying in vain to pull it off the hinge. It wouldn't budge.

"What the hell am I doing?" Alex asked herself, sighing and shaking her head as if to clear the fog that had settled over it. She turned on her heel to head back to the gym when she heard a feint 'click' that made her stop and look back.

The lock on locker XIII hung open.

Alex pulled it free and let it clatter to the floor. She pulled the locker open slowly and with caution, barely hearing the load groaning it made in protest. She peered inside the pitch black, it was empty - maybe? She squinted her eyes, hoping they would adjust to the dim lighting. She couldn't see the back or the sides of the locker. It looked like a black hole.

A wave of dark liquid oozed from the locker, spilling down onto her dress and coating her feet. It was warm and she knew, somehow, that it was blood.

She reached her hand in towards what should have been the back of the locker and expected to feel metal. However, her hand just kept moving through empty, humid air until her arm and her shoulder were completely inside. She retracted her arm and kicked off her shoes, leaving them forgotten on the linoleum floors that were quickly becoming slick with the blood that gushed out from the locker.

She put her clutch into her mouth and bit down - this was going to be a hands free kind of adventure. She placed her hands on the slippery edge of the locker and tried to hoist herself up without losing her purchase. After a few tries and rips in her dress she managed to get her knee on the ledge and pulled herself completely inside.

Her hands felt around the metal floor. She felt the sides of the locker - just as narrow as they should be and began to move the only way she could go. Forward.

The sides of the locker, coated in warm blood seemed to extend as far as she could reach yet there was no ceiling and seemingly no end insight. The air around her was warm and stale, pressing into her skin. Blood gushed from overhead coating her from top to bottom. Her hands and knees slipped beneath her as she continued to crawl away from the opening.

Even if Alex could have looked back in the narrow space she was in, she didn't want to for fear that the door had been shut and locked behind her - and with her luck tonight, it was highly plausible.

It may have been hours that she crawled, or it may have been minutes - she had no concept of time as she slid forwards trying not get blood in her mouth or eyes. There was no end in sight and a vicious panic attack creeping up on her when her hands and face pressed into a blockade. There was an end.

She pressed it with her hands and found that it was falling away in crumbs, like dirt. She began to claw desperately as the blood that fell around her seemed to be coming down in rivets now, filling the small space and getting higher and higher around her legs and wrists.

Alex was pretty sure she was crying when her hand broke through the other side and a beam of ambient light hit her face, blinding her temporarily as her eyes fought to adjust. Fresh air also spilled in and she greedily inhaled as much as she could, unaware just how oxygen deprived she had been.

When she had clawed enough of the earth away, making a small hole she used every ounce of remaining strength and survival instinct in her body to pull herself through it. The world moved beneath her, her centre of gravity shifting as though the earth had come to halt and started to move backwards. She fought off a dizzying wave of nausea as she pulled herself out of the dirt in the middle of the lacrosse field.

Alex coughed violently, heaving up bits of blood and dirt, trying not to sob as her mind tried to wrap itself around the horror and insanity of what she had just gone through.

The existential moment came to a screeching halt as her eyes focused in on another foreign object on the lacrosse field. A familiar mass of pink ruffles and sparkles slumped lifelessly under one of the lights - the dress Alex might have worn in another life.

Lydia.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: Tell Me What You Want

Alex wasn't sure if she was screaming Lydia's name or if she was just screeching gibberish - but either way, she was screaming at the top of her lungs as she raced towards her unconscious friend. The sobs coming from her mouth sounded something like her friends name, that much she knew.

Her dress ripped at the seams little by little as she ran, unaware that Stiles was hot on her heels as she went, grabbing at her elbow trying to figure out why she looked so dishevelled and honestly, like she had walked straight off the screen of a horror movie. He didn't understand how she had ended up here when they had a plan - Alex Argent never deviated from a plan. Where she had gone during the time they were supposed to be hiding out near the field?

Stiles had gone looking for Lydia, too. She'd left the gym looking for Jackson and when Jackson had later shown up in the gym, Stiles had questioned Lydia's whereabouts - concerned that he'd fucked up his only job. He'd wandered on to the lacrosse field right before their scheduled trap for Peter Hale, only to spot Lydia laying unmoving on the grass and suddenly Alex had appeared out of the blue screaming bloody fucking murder. He and Scott had been looking for her all night.

Alex fell with abandon at Lydia's side, checking her pulse with blood stained fingers - Stiles yelling in her ear, but she couldn't hear him.

She looked frightening, covered in blood that looked black. It congealed over her whole body - the only thing visible were her strikingly blue eyes, wide with panic.

"Alex!" He shouted, nearly as hysterical as she was. "Alex! Stop!"

She stilled her fluttering hands, uselessly touching Lydia, when Stiles' larger ones, warm and clean grabbed hers and squeezed. The pressure of his hands and his presence shocked her into reality - a place she surely hadn't been for the past few hours.

"We need to call an ambulance." She said, finding her voice, small as it was.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked softly, but with a hint of manic. He caressed her sore hands as they stilled over Lydia's steady pulse.

"I was about to ask the same thing." An amused voice boomed from overhead. "Though, I think I've got a pretty good idea."

Peter Hale stood meters from them, smiling with teeth, a grin that made Alex's spine shiver.

Stiles fell from his haunches onto his back at the intrusion as Alex fought to keep her frantic emotions and thoughts in check. This was too much for one night. Too much for one person. She felt the ground beneath her aching fingers and felt more steady than she had all night, pulling herself to her feet.

"Peter Hale, I presume." Alex responded, turning to face the Alpha. She stood on legs she hoped weren't shaking too much for anyone to see, but under her blood soaked and torn dress she was sure a werewolf could hear her knees knocking together.

"Smart as you are beautiful." Peter smiled wider. "Speaking of, I seem to recall you looking a little less . . . covered in blood earlier. Shame about your dress." His smile could have been handsome if it weren't for the look in his eye that sparkled with euphoria - unadulterated happiness at the pain and fear he was causing.

"Nothing a little club soda can't fix." She shrugged, suppressing a wince at the twinge in her back. "Not that we wouldn't love to stay and chat, but we have an ambulance to call. Say," She began mockingly, "You wouldn't happen to know what happened to our friend Lydia, would you?"

Peter laughed, "A bump on the head. Nothing to bother the good doctors about." He took a step closer to Alex and she fought the instinct to step back. "Besides, you can't leave yet." He circled them now, like prey. "I'd to talk to you seriously for a moment."

"Oh, that's great because I'm used to verbally sparing with people who have a slightly more impressive IQ." She spat, adjusting herself so she was in a more protective stance over Lydia.

"Don't be mean to me." His smile faded into a feral snarl, "I'm sure you have questions about what's happening to you." He looked smug, like he knew a million secrets that no one in the world would ever catch on to.

Alex tensed as Peter stepped completely into her personal space, his face less than an inch from her own. She could smell his breath, not foul like the remanence of something he'd killed earlier on - but a subtle hint of mint and tobacco. She could see how he looked at her, like he was amused at her ignorance yet intrigued by her appearance. She obviously looked like a fucking mess but it seemed like as much as he wanted them to think he knew all the answers, he was still perplexed. It was almost like he was trying to weave up an explanation in his own mind that they would find convincing.

Alex stood her ground, unwilling to show fear - it was her father's number one lesson and though she'd forsaken her family the moment she'd seen the connection between Allison and Scott, she'd never forget the lessons her father taught her.

"Why would you have any answers?" She questioned, with good reason. She stared at him with the same amount of intensity that he did.

"I've got to say," Peter's charming smile came almost too easily. "Watching you all run around protecting all of these humans has been entertaining, to say the absolute least - not one of you ever thought that you might be protecting the wrong people."

"Obviously we haven't been protecting the wrong people." Stiles piped in, gesturing to Lydia, unconscious on the ground before him. "Exhibit J."

"An unfortunately casualty." Peter commented offhandedly. "Your little Scooby Gang thought you had it all figured out," His demenour and the way he spoke was as though he was talking to old friends. "It's funny if you really think about it." He actually laughed. "Scott thought he had it all figured out, he thought it was him that I wanted."

"You know," Stiles had jumped in again, having found his usual level of sarcasm, "The villainous monologue never worked out very well for the bad guy in Scooby Doo - I should know, I still watch it." He said as though it was something to be proud of, "Saturdays at eleven."

"What do you want then, if you're in such a sharing mood?" Alex asked, ignoring Stiles.

"You, of course." Peter's laugh was shrill - almost like there was a hint of a howl or a whine, she wasn't sure which but it made her hair curl at the ends. He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. "With that being said, I'm going to need you to start asking yourself some questions." He didn't seem as scary now - more like a parent schooling their child or someone who had just as many questions as she did. "Questions about your childhood, your training, your family. Question where you came from, Aleksandra - and where you've been."

Alex and Stiles, surprisingly, remained silent. Uncharacteristic for the both of them.

"I am aware that you've had a difficult night, Aleksandra. The night at the school - before the nightmares started." He backed away a little, making her feel a little more safe. "When nightmares become reality you need to figure out why. Powerful magic leaves a mark." He lowered himself to settle his lips against the shell of her ear, quickly, using superhuman speed she hadn't seen in a werewolf before and whispered, "You look lovely in red."

Alex was vaguely aware of Stiles yelling threats at Peter for his proximity to her but before they had impact or she could turn around and scold him for it - Peter was gone. He'd disappeared on the wind leaving Stiles and Alex heaving breaths they didn't know they'd been holding.

Lydia groaned from her place on the ground, drawing their attention. She rolled over onto her side, her strawberry blonde hair falling perfectly over her face but remained unconscious. Leave it to Lydia Martin to look perfect even in the face of mortal danger.

"What the hell WAS THAT?!" Stiles' arms flew over his head and he began to pace so quickly it gave Alex even more of a headache. "Nightmares, reality . . . " He muttered under his breath before rounding on Alex determinedly, "What happened to you the night at the school? Fuck! What happened to you tonight?"

"Stiles . . ." She warned, sounding tired, her shoulders drooping - a stark contrast to her usual perfect posture.

"No, Alex." He was firm. "The truth for once - the whole truth." When his eyes met hers he was surprised to find them not, filled with heat and rage but brimming with tears. Stiles immediately softened. "Later, then."

Alex nodded once, grateful for the break he'd given her and inhaled deeply trying to compose herself. "Call Jackson." She said, "He can make himself useful and get Lydia to the hospital. We need to find Scott."

"Derek showed up." Stiles revealed, fishing through his jacket pocket for his phone. "Obviously, a distraction, but no one ever listens to me." He typing furiously on his phones screen. "Scott tried to chase him down - Derek lured him out of the school. Moron."

"Agreed." She nodded, "I'm nearly positive they'll be at the Hale House - it makes the most sense." She reasoned as Stiles' phone buzzed in his hand.

"Jackson's on his way, we don't have time to wait." Stiles returned his phone to his pocket and looked at her with a panicked urgency.

Alex knew he was right, but it felt disloyal to leave Lydia here, alone. Alex wondered in the back of her mind when she started to feel loyal to her in the first place. Loyal to any of them really. She'd moved here with her family, a family of hunter's with one thing on her mind, one goal, and one reality. It seemed she'd made several choices without actually meaning to when her family moved her here. She'd found a different kind of family - one she never knew she had the capacity to understand or love.

When the fuck did that happen?

There was no choice, as much of an oxymoron as that was. They needed to find Scott before Derek or Peter found him first. Plus, Alex knew she needed to fill both Scott and Stiles in on exactly what was happening to her.

The seams of her dress split higher as the pair sprinted off the field, between buildings and through the parking lot to Stiles' Jeep. Alex stopped only to snatch her clutch from the ground where she couldn't help but notice there was no unearthed dirt or hole in the ground - it was completely even grass, as though she hadn't climbed out from her own grave.

Stiles flew out of the parking lot faster than she thought his piece of shit Jeep could go while she helped herself to a box of tissues and an ancient bottle of water to clean herself up a little.

Stiles was watching her intently through the corners of his eyes and she could feel it as she scrubbed shit off of her neck with the damp kleenex. She changed quickly, peeling her ruined dress off, thankful for its long sleeves and skirt because her skin underneath was relatively clean. She pulled her sports bra over her head and tied her hair back into a braid, finishing only as they pulled up at the Hale House.

"Here." Stiles tossed her the leather satchel of ring daggers she'd put in his car earlier and she strapped them on as they slowly exited the car and approached the house, which looked somehow even more dilapidated in the pitch black.

"I can't hear anything or see anyone." Stiles commented at a whisper. "Usually in these circumstances there's growling, things breaking, screams of pain . . . You know, the usual."

As if on cue, a deafening howl came from the forest, about a kilometre away, as far as Alex could tell.

They ran.

When the pair came upon Scott and Derek, the latter was on the ground with an arrow protruding from his shoulder, Scott hunched only feet away from his werewolf brother, protectively.

Alex's heart hammered. No one on her father's team used a bow and arrow - that was to be Allison's skill to hone and Allison's only. Time nearly stilled as she looked around the darkness waiting for what she already knew in her heart was going to happen.

Alex and Derek both yelled simultaneously, "Your eyes!"

No one besides Derek and Alex were prepared when an arrow whizzed past their heads, embedding itself in a tree truck and promptly exploding on contact. A searing white light blasted forth from the arrow head.

Scott and Derek were momentarily blinded as Chris and Allison stepped forwards, weapons poised and ready, dressed head to tow in signature black apparel.

"Mr. Stilinski, you may want to back up." Chris warned, eyes trained on the wolves.

Stiles actually scoffed. "Yeah, like that's going to happen."

Alex had unconsciously moved between her family and Scott. She wasn't sure when she'd moved or how her father hadn't shot her right then, but then again, she'd done a lot of weird shit tonight that required more of an explanation than that.

"What are you doing, Alex?" Her father demanded. "Move aside."

"I can't do that, dad." She found herself saying calmly. Her voice didn't sound like it even belonged to her anymore. "Killing them would be wrong. You know that." When she was met with silence, she looked to Allison who was glaring at her with pure loathing. Something so foreign to her sweet sisters face it made Alex want to cry. "Allison?" She pleaded. For Scott or for herself - she didn't know.

"I can barely look at you." Allison spat.

"Please, Alli-"

"NO!" Allison roared, the most unforgiving sound Alex had ever heard come from her sisters mouth. "You've been lying to me for years!" She cocked her bow at Alex's head. "All this time . . . You knew everything."

"Allison." Her father scolded. "Check your emotions - we have a mission, and apparently a traitor to deal with." He eyed Alex as he finished but used his free hand to lower Allison's weapon away from Alex's head. "How long have you been protecting them?" Silence. "HOW LONG?!"

Chris' gun seemed to move of its own accord, angling towards Alex.

Stiles leaped in front of her at the same time a blood curdling scream erupted from the direction of the Hale House.

"It's the Alpha." Scott declared. No one fought him on that, because by that point they were all familiar with the ground shaking howl an Alpha emitted. Scott and Derek took off in the direction of the call ahead of everyone else. Chris and Allison weren't far behind, whilst Alex stood rooted to the spot unable to take control of her legs.

"You should go." Stiles urged. Alex wasn't aware he was still there - she thought he'd have taken off right after Scott. Though, his hand was still clasped firmly around hers, the same as when he'd grabbed it while jumping between her and her father's gun. "We know Peter wants you, it could be a trap - you should run."

"My sister." Was all she seemed to be able to say. Stiles nodded in understanding and she felt like crying for the umpteenth time that night.

Alex felt inexplicably stupid. She should have seen this coming. Kate rolling into town unexpectedly, the necklace currently fastened around Allison's neck, the weird glances she'd caught Allison giving her. Why hadn't her father told her that Allison knew - Alex suddenly felt ill, now she knew how her sister had felt all these years. Secrets that everyone knew were there but only a few were in on.

Stiles pulled her through the forest in pursuit of Scott and Derek, stumbling through the bush in a way so profoundly human Alex nearly laughed. Until she saw the scene unfolding before them.

Allison, crouching over Scott who was laying on the ground, turned away from her and trying desperately to hide his transformation.

Chris, watching the intimate exchange between his oldest daughter and a werewolf.

Peter, half burnt and half covered in grime and foliage, smoke curling up from his smouldering flesh.

Derek, leaning over his nearly dead uncle, wheels turning in his head so intensely that Alex could almost see it through his eyes.

"Derek! Don't!" She called, diverting everyone's attention to the werewolf in question. Scott stood to attention, panicked eyes trained on Derek.

"Derek, please - I'll lose everything." Scott pleaded - someone had obviously told him that the only way to reverse the curse was to kill the Alpha that bit you. No one ever told her anything and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Derek turned slowly towards Peter, not sparing Scott a glance of remorse. "I'm sorry, Scott." She didn't mean it, because the words were barely out of his mouth before he plunged his claws deep into the melted flesh of his uncles chest.

Peter cried out, his eyes flashing a bright red and fading to yellow for only a second before dying out completely as he succumbed to his death.

Derek threw his head back with a guttural howl as the same bright red glow he'd stolen from his uncle, grew stronger in his own. Peter's body wasn't even cold on the ground when Derek sprinted away into the cover of the trees and the dark of the night.

Alex turned to Stiles who was already watching her reaction. "Look's like there's a new Alpha in town." His warm brown eyes that always reminded her of whiskey bore into her own trying to convey something that she was too tired, emotionally and physically to discern. Disgust at her comedic timing? Worry for what was to happen next? Concern for her weary body that was angling itself towards the ground?

"Allison!" Chris demanded, her fathers voice sounding farther and farther away. Allison's head snapped to attention, leaving Scott standing dejected in front of the smoking house. "Let's go. NOW!"

Alex watched them leave, disappearing into the darkness. She'd been left behind, something Hunters and werewolves alike, never did. It broke their code and it was breaking her now. Alex knew that she'd been the one to break it first though, how could she complain when she knew, somehow and someway, that this was the only possible outcome. She was their enemy now. She'd chosen this.

Suddenly, or perhaps it had been coming for hours - the weight of the events of the night seemed to overwhelm her all at once and she fell head first into the dirt, losing consciousness.

She tasted blood in her mouth.

.

 **Hello Ladies and Gents,**

 **I'm loving the all the love my story is getting and I truly appreciate the comments, favourites and follows.**

 **Throw me a comment - tell me what you like, what you don't like, how you think Alex is fitting in to the story and where you think it's going. I have a couple of other chapters written on my computer and even more written out in my notebooks (because why the hell not) so KEEP THE LOVE COMING.**

 **Thanks guys 3**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: You've Got Tail

Alex stretched her body, testing her toes and fingers and beneath they felt comfortable sheets and a warm bed. Her eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar feel of her surroundings, yet she was completely enveloped in a familiar smell and she knew, somehow, that she was safe.

Being better safe than sorry she reached for her knives in her thigh holsters only to find that they weren't there, and neither were her pants, for that matter. She pulled the covers down, surveying herself. She was wearing only an oversized grey hoodie that was definitely not hers and tried to slow her nervous breathing. Maybe she wasn't as safe as she felt - a smell was no way to measure the potential for harm.

Until . . .

"Hey, you're okay." It was Stiles speaking softly and peering at her from his computer chair, pouring over something on his laptop. She looked around the room. Dark blue - or grey (she couldn't tell in the dark) walls, posters covering most of them. There was the computer desk he was sitting at, piled high with papers and books. Various teenage boy items littered the floor and every other available surface.

This was Stiles' room.

She noticed Scott, fast asleep on a makeshift bed in the centre of the room, snoring heavily.

"You passed out at the Preserve." He explained, shutting his laptop screen slightly and dimming the light significantly in the room, focusing his attention solely on her. "I got you a glass of water - you should probably hydrate."

Alex sighed in relief, the nervous tension leaving her shoulders. She gripped the Iron Man glass, filled to the brim with water and resisted the urge to make a joke at his expense. She downed the water so fast it surprised her and then realized she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten or drank anything.

"Thanks." Alex murmured. It might have been the dehydration or the trauma she'd experienced but she could almost feel her lips plumping and her skin rehydrating within second of downing the glass of water.

"I'll get you another." He offered, making a quick move to leave his chair. "Or something else - I think I might have Pop Tarts, or something - that's all I can think of. Ramen?"

Alex ran a shaking hand through her hair after it had fallen in a matted clump over her face. It was covered in blood - so it wasn't only the hairspray Lydia had put in her hair that night but also blood, that she wasn't even sure had been real, that held it all together in a chunk that felt like rope.

"I could use a shower. I feel absolutely revolting." She announced, giving up on combing her fingers through her hair when dried flakes of blood began to dance through the air in front of her face.

"Yeah -" He cut himself off, jumping from his chair and nearly tossing his laptop on the floor. "Of course. Sure. I'll get you a towel, the bathroom is down the hall." He stammered and Alex couldn't help but feel like maybe he was afraid in some way but she couldn't tell why. He was always manic - that was just Stiles, but this felt different.

She didn't understand that it was concern and panic for her and her safety, that if she died he would go out of his mind. He watched her tonight emerge in front of his eyes, covered in blood. He'd watched the one relationship he knew was most important to her crumble like sand. He'd watched her fall to the ground in the Preserve and every single time his heart broke a little at the edges.

"What time is it?" She asked, getting out of his bed, a bed so disgustingly comfortable she was entertaining the thought of being in it more often. "I wouldn't want to wake up your dad, I can live in my own filth for a few more hours."

Stiles nearly smiled, seemingly at ease now that she'd cracked half a joke. "He's at the station, dealing with Lydia's attack - he won't be home for a few hours."

"Is she okay? I don't really remember the details - my dad would be livid." She said, another half joke that didn't quite reach her usual caliber. She was feeling awkward while pulling the hoodie's hem down a little, now that the covers were gone and her legs were exposed - as well as the scars she scratched into herself over the past few months. "Did you change my clothes?"

Stiles paled and even in the darkness of his room she could tell he was nervous. "I didn't look - well, we didn't look. Scott and I. We nearly dropped you - that's how much we weren't looking. Scott caught you. Werewolf reflexes. When you dropped - his hand, well, I punched his face and might have broken my finger." He stretched his hand out in front of his face to prove it and winced.

She smiled despite everything and stood from the bed. "You took me home?"

"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck and levelled his eyes so they were on her.

Stiles had a tendency to look at her like there wasn't anything in the world she could do wrong. The whiskey brown seemed to swirl whenever he looked at her, it was warmth and love and adoration. It was everything that she never wanted to want. His features would soften and the kind brown irises bored deeper in to her than she had ever allowed anyone else. It was the same look he'd given her on their first day of school and she wondered how he knew even then that he felt that way. Alex never seemed to understand how she felt until someone was dead - potentially months after that. It struck her now how different they were when it came to emotion. He felt everything, all at once when he felt it, and she suppressed it, until it nearly killed her.

"I'll get you a towel."

She walked down the hall on unsteady legs and the bright lights in the small bathroom made her head pound. Stiles watched her from the doorway, unwilling to let her out of his sight for too long. Alex looked back at him over her shoulder, feeling his eyes on the back of her legs and raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'll be just fine." She announced.

"If you need me . . ." He trailed off, not knowing how finish his thought.

"I'll be fine, Stiles." She said gently, "It's only a shower."

She closed the door on him and his wide eyes and slightly parted mouth. He was nervous about her safety and she smiled, a secret little tug on the corners of her mouth. Of course it was him that brought her home, that put her to bed, and made sure she was comfortable. He was always looking out for her when she couldn't look for herself.

She pulled off the hoodie, folding it carefully and with precision, laying it cautiously on the corner of the bathroom sink. When the scalding water hit her skin she barely felt it. It stung her skin minimally but she could hardly find the energy within herself to care. She rubbed it until it was raw and scraped at her scalp with a vicious determination. The water ran red with with the dried blood that had formed a crusted cocoon over her skin and she slammed her eyes shut at the sight.

There wasn't a shower long enough to make her feel clean so she settled for when the water finally ran clear and her skin was red with irritation.

Alex towelled herself off and combed her fingers through her hair trying to detangle what little knots were left and then she put the warm hoodie back on, pausing only once to smell it, revelling in the calm and peace the smell of Stiles brought to her.

She didn't stay in the bathroom long enough to recognize the significance of that.

She pushed open the bathroom door slowly and stepped into the hallway, feeling the plush carpet beneath her bare feet. Stiles' house felt like a home in every way and the photographs lining the wall only solidified that thought. There was a sliver of light coming from the cracked open door of Stiles' room. The light hadn't been on before and she'd closed the door behind her so she deduced that Scott must have woken up or Stiles had forced him to. She could hear their low whispering as she approached but she couldn't help but let her attention divert to the life that the Stilinski's had hung on their walls.

It was almost like the framed photographs had been placed in succession of each other as she gazed upon Stiles and his life.

One of Stiles; no older than six or seven, sporting some Christmas footie pyjamas, holding a half unwrapped kids chemistry set up to the camera while his parents embraced behind him.

One of Stiles; a little older, smiling bright, his front tooth missing while his mother kissed his cheek.

One of Stiles; in a huge stadium with his father, they were smiling like they'd been laughing when the photo was taken and pretzels the size of their heads next to their cheeks. They were at a Met's game.

There was one of Scott and Stiles, taken recently on Stiles' driveway, in front of the Jeep that had a bright red bow on it, arms over each others shoulders and making goofy faces at the camera with backpacks slung haphazardly over their shoulders.

She was smiling. Smiling at the memories and the fact that she now had these second hand experiences and having this knowledge of Stiles' past that she hadn't had before. Alex wondered if her family had kept any pictures like that. The many homes they'd lived in over the past years had never had any nostalgic photos or keepsakes, no mantle pieces or furniture that had ever meant anything to anyone. The things the Argent's kept were guns and records of all the beasts they'd encountered over hundreds of years.

Peering at Stiles growing up in his own hallway, she deduced that this was definitely better. Way better.

She continued on her way to Stiles' room, pulling down the smile she'd acquired on the way and padded over to the door. The hushed whispers stopped when the door creaked open. Stiles' head snapped up upon her arrival, his eyes locking on to hers in a way that made her incapable of looking away - eyes she'd seen grow into the man he'd now become just on her trip back from the bathroom. Scott looked at her just as fast - an Omega who was definitely not alone, someone who had proved to her time and time again that he was a leader. Maybe not one that was in full control now, but someone who had everyone's best interests at heart.

She looked at them and she knew - she knew what happened next. It was the part where she came clean about about everything.

So, she came into the room, eyes never leaving Stiles' and sat on his bed pulling his hoodie closer to her chest and fondling the strings as she opened her mouth and just started talking.

She told them about the night in the school and how she'd been running for her life, just like them and then she'd been distracted by a smell - something she couldn't ignore and Scott had nodded in understanding. She told them how it drew her to the library and to a section she was now scared to go back to for fear that it hadn't ever existed in the first place. She retold how her own blood had lead her to a page in a book she'd pulled from the shelf and how it had lead her to a page that looked like it had some kind of Latin incarnation on it.

Alex explained that she'd regained her reasoning and went leave the library and find them only to come face to face with the huge floor to ceiling windows in the library that were absolutely NOT looking onto the lacrosse field as they normally did.

She explained how later she'd been sure she'd been drowning in blood while trying to reach for the keys in the pool.

Scott and Stiles listened with rapt attention and after she'd told them what happened the previous night they looked equal parts horrified and concerned.

"So, Peter knew what was happening?" Scott asked, stifling a yawn but still look intently at her.

Stiles looked her sheepishly, "I filled him in on the Alpha of it all while you were in the shower." He shrugged. "Time management."

"All this time we thought he wanted a pack." Scott lamented. "When he only wanted you."

"We can't trust Peter as far as we can throw his burnt, rotting corpse." Stiles commented. "But if he was telling us the truth than there must be something he thought you could give him. Something to make him more powerful."

"How do you figure that?" Alex inquired.

"It's all about power." Stiles said as though he'd just figured it out now or he'd been thinking about it for a while - but there was a look of realization. "We thought he wanted Scott in his pack to make him stronger - there has to be a similar reason to want Alex. This is Peter Hale we're talking about."

"Do you think he wants me in his pack?" Alex asked, in the smallest voice Stiles had ever heard her speak in. She was scared and she was letting him see it.

"I don't know." He said honestly, wanting so bad to go to her and touch her in some way that his body physically ached.

When Scott drifted off to sleep, a promise to continue the conversation on his lips, Stiles seated himself next to Alex on his bed. It dipped with the weight of them and they leaned into each other whether they wanted to or not - and they did. Their thighs were touching as Scott snored beside them and Alex couldn't help but feel the electricity in the air with such an intensity that her skin prickled as her individual hair follicles strained with the force of standing on end.

"We'll figure this out." Stiles whispered into the dark room. He had broken the comfortable silence they'd been sitting in. The dark made him bold and he reached for her hand and she let him hold it.

"The nightmares, the blood - all of it," Alex sighed, "I don't really care." She admitted, unleashing her full gaze on every inch of his face that her eyes could consume. Stiles held his breath, like he always did when she looked directly at him. "The way Allison looked at me - that's what I care about." She cut herself off, wanting to continue her thought, but she wanted to derail her crying.

Stiles saw the gleaming of tears in her eye and couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't happened sooner. What she had been through, not only tonight but her entire life - he was in awe of the fact that she wasn't in Eichen House right now. He admired her for the strength it took her to get out of bed every day.

If the rumours around the school were true and Alex Argent had no heart, Stiles would be hard pressed to believe that now.

"I can't go home." She realized. The soft glow of Stiles laptop was the only thing allowing them to see each other. "I think my dad is going to kill me."

Stiles couldn't say anything - how could he? He had no idea the life she'd lived before he's fallen headfirst into it. He squeezed her hand wanting nothing but to reassure her that there was no way her father could ever - but he thought about the horrors Chris Argent had already put his youngest daughter though and decided that his own silence on the matter may be best. After all, he wouldn't be surprised if Chris Argent and his team were huddled around a table discussing ways to execute the traitor.

Alex laid back on the bed, overcome with the realization. She wondered how she could ever face her sister after this. Alex never imagined having to explain her betrayal and hers alone. She had always pictured finally telling Allison what their family did in a group setting. Maybe her mom would call a family meeting, maybe her dad would pull them both into the study, maybe Aunt Kate and her grandfather would be there - all equally to blame for her lifetime of deceit. They would have all explained together. Now, Kate or maybe even unforeseen circumstances had involved her sister and everyone had decided, now that Alex had obviously sided with Scott, that she was the one to blame. Allison was being manipulated by their family to blame her. Alex didn't think that because she was trying to compensate, she thought it because she knew her family and what they would do to Allison now that she knew how they'd fucked up her own view of the supernatural.

Her sister had seemed to understand the otherworldly aspects of this day to day lifestyle - just not Alex's part in it. She felt alone and cold ever since her sister had looked at her in that clearing with so much hatred.

So, when Stiles moved to retreat back to his desk as she reclined into the bed, she swallowed and embarrassingly loud whine of protest, saying instead, "Stiles . . ."

"Uh-" He was surprised she'd spoken. "Yeah?"

"Would you stay, in the bed." She swallowed. "With me?" She cursed herself and her choppy attempt at speaking. She sounded as nervous as Stiles.

It took every ounce of willpower Stiles had not to dive in to the bed, under the covers and wrap Alex up in his body like could protect her from the things that threatened her. She seemed so small in his bed, under his covers and in his hoodie. She looked like a normal sixteen year old girl who just wanted someone to make her feel safe. He so desperately wanted to be that for her but he knew that she was so much more capable and he was nothing like Derek Hale - the Alpha who had super strength and experience. It was hard not to compare himself to Scott or Derek when the girl he was so desperately in love with was looking at him like that.

.

It was an uncomfortable feeling to wake up squished beneath Stiles, who had seemed to even be trying to protect her while he was unconscious. She was completely drenched in him. He covered every inch of her body, her skin was on fire. She could feel his breath even and steady, fan over her face. She didn't even notice that he hadn't brushed his teeth - that was irrelevant. All she noticed was him, all over her, and she didn't want to move.

Though, it was even more uncomfortable to wake up to Scott McCall's smug face, eyeing her like the Cheshire fucking Cat.

"Sleep well?" He sing-songed, his smirk widening as his gaze lowered to her hand and Stiles' intertwined fingers nestled underneath her chin.

"Fuck off, McCall." She muttered, not wanting to wake Stiles and increase her embarrassment. She slipped easily out of the tangles of knots their limbs were in, only because of years of training was she able to maneuver herself out of Stiles' grip without him waking up.

"You guys look cute together." Scott said, sitting up uncomfortable from the floor. "Seriously, besides, I think we could all use something nice in our lives right now. Especially you."

Alex narrowed her tired eyes at Scott, silently trying to tell him that the best most for him was to back off. He put his arms up in a mock surrender, but the friendly smirk showed that he wasn't genuine and more interested in condescending her.

"Where are you going?" He asked, the question directed at her retreating back.

"I'm going to find the laundry room to get my clothes - I need to go for a run." She declared, solidly yet quietly as to not disturb Stiles. Scott fixed her with a pointed look and she rolled her eyes at him, "I'll be back in an hour - have coffee ready." She tunred on her heel.

"Basement. Third door on the right of the main hall." Scott offered.

.

Alex was about seven kilometres into her run she she noticed the black SUV following her - and doing an extremely shitty job of it in her humble opinion.

Alex turned down a trail into the Preservation Area, arms pumping as her legs pushed her body forward. It was a narrow and winding dirt road that even top of the line all wheel drive would have had trouble with.

Alex's stamina while running was pretty impressive for a human. She'd had years of training. Running everyday whether by choice or by circumstance. It was a talent she'd developed for survival reasons. However, as she sprinted down the dirt trail she could feel her aching legs beneath her screaming that she was pushing herself too hard. She was reaching her body's limits in order to try and lose this tail.

She darted quickly in and out of the tree line, careful to avoid tripping on foliage and broken branches. Her own breath sounded like rushing water in her ears, but that could have been the sound of her blood pumping. She could have cried when she emerged onto a wider, more even side road. Her steps were less hazardous. She made the mistake of slowing to a casual jog, letting her body recover for a moment. Her chest was heaving with the strain of trying to catch her breath. She looked over her should, jogging backwards for a moment to make sure that the familiar black SUV was nowhere to be seen.

She righted herself, ready to pick up the pace and head back to Stiles' when she skidded to a stop. The tail had caught her off guard, the car had come up in front of her, effectively cutting her off.

She stilled. Her muscles were tight with tension and she hoped they could hold out for a fight.

The car idled in park for a few agonizing seconds before the drivers side door swung open. Alex unholstered two ring daggers, knowing that they wouldn't stop a bullet, but feeling comfort in the familiarity of the feel of them in her hands. She wondered if her dad would kill her himself or if he would task someone else with the dirty deed. Maybe it would be Jonathon, that would have been poetic, she knew Kate would have probably begged for the gig had she still been breathing.

Allison stepped out of the car. Alex had to physically stop herself from walking forward, crying and embracing her sister. Allison didn't have the stomach to kill her, yet. Surely, her father wouldn't have sent Allison to kill her. Alex noticed she was alone - she hadn't brought any back up or weapons.

"Japanese Ring Daggers." Allison called over the few yards of distance between them. "I guess it makes sense that's what you chose."

"Archery." Alex responded, voice steady. "Makes sense, too. It chooses you - I'm sure you've gotten to that part of your training. Besides, you were always better with a bow than I was."

"Stop it." Allison demanded, obviously not wanting compliments. "I came here for a reason."

"I hope so - if your goal was a game of tag, I believe you'd have had an unfair advantage." Alex quipped, gesturing to the car and searching her sisters face for even a hint of a smile.

"I said, stop."

Nothing.

"Did you come to kill me, then?" Alex asked, holstering her knives and crossing her arms over her chest. "Go ahead. I've been doing this way too long, anyway."

"Mom wants to." Allison said, matter of fact, hoping to hurt her sister. "Dad won't agree." She admitted, eyes downcast.

"Surprising." She said, "About dad." She clarified. "I thought it would be unanimous."

"You can't come home." Allison's face was stone cold and stark pale against the all black outfit she was wearing. "Stay away from me - and our family." She warned, "Stay out of our way and we won't have to kill you."

"Big words from someone who has been doing this all of five minutes." Alex scoffed. This wasn't her sister. If Allison was going to play pretend a bad ass warrior queen instead of who she actually was than Alex was going to be who she was when she dealt with her family. A killer, a hunter.

Alex felt a sense of grief. A realization that she'd lost one of the only people she could truly be herself around.

"Would have been a lot longer if you'd have given up the throne."

"The throne?" Alex exclaimed, losing the little composure she'd managed to pull together. "You think this is some kind of fucking fairytale, Allison? You and dad tried to kill Scott and Derek last night - KILL! You have no idea what that does to a person."

"Derek is a monster!"

"And Scott?"

"Leave him out of this."

"No can do, sister." Alex laughed, it was cruel and mocking but she'd lost the ability to try and placate her sister anymore. "He's knuckle deep in this, so am I - you wanted an invite to the club? Well, fucking welcome!" She extended her hands and grand display of bowing. "Enjoy your throne."

Alex moved to dart back through the woods and straight back to Stiles. The only person in the world now, that could bring her any sense of comfort or peace. But Allison spoke first.

"I just came to warn you. Stay out of our way." Allison's need to have the last word was obvious to Alex, because she'd already delivered her message. Alex didn't dare hope that maybe Allison didn't want to leave. Maybe she wanted to talk and work things out.

It was apparent to Alex that they'd probably need a licensed professional to sort out all of their family drama but they were still sisters. They still needed each other and they always would.

"Don't forget about your trust fund, Alex." Allison muttered, like she was telling a secret. "You have access to it." Allison climbed back into the car, slamming the car door with unneeded force and peeled away, missing Alex by half an inch as she sped off.

Alex fought off the intense urge to scream out in frustration or stomp her foot like a petulant child. She missed her sister - not the angry, terrified and lonely girl she'd just spoken to.


End file.
